The Road Ahead
by winchesterlove94
Summary: Anna Brooks lost everything after the world ended. Now, she must face her fears head on as she struggles to deal with devastating loss, constant danger, and finding her way in a land that now belongs to the dead. But sometimes, a glimmer of hope can be found disguised as a short-tempered, hard-headed redneck who may just save her life in more ways than one. Daryl x OC *SLOW BURN*
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note** : This is my FIRST EVER "The Walking Dead" series and I'm so excited to finally be able to share it with everyone! (This is based off my one-shot called "The Road Ahead" in case you were wondering why the first chapters seem a bit familiar.)_

 _My OC - Anna Brooks - is of my own creation. I hope everyone loves her as much as I do. This is a SLOW-BURN fic…I wanted to keep Daryl as accurate as possible, so you know he's not going to fall in love within a chapter…or two…or twelve…so, we are in for the long haul, babes!_

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Anna Brooks wasn't sure of many things.

But regardless of the unpredictability of life, there was one thing she was absolutely certain of — the small fact that she was completely _screwed_.

It was sometime in the late afternoon, she was all alone, and her pickup truck had suddenly decided that it was time for a premature departure. She'd been confident that her small truck would last another couple of weeks — or _least_ long enough to get her to Atlanta — but going along with the theme these days, it met an early demise.

The pickup didn't belong to her — she'd stumbled upon it a couple weeks ago in a deserted parking lot. It'd been pretty banged up — the rusted green paint chipping, scratches and dents covering the exterior, streaks of blood here and there. But in a rare stroke of luck, she'd found the keys in the glove compartment and a full tank of gas. It had been a _Godsend_.

Anna slammed her hand against the steering wheel as the truck finally rolled to a stop, steam seeping out from under the hood. She put the truck into park before shutting off the engine. Taking a deep, steady breath, she turned the key, hoping to hear the engine turn over. But her heart dropped when she was met with what could only be described as 'clanking metal'.

"No, no, no, c'mon baby," Anna murmured as the truck sputtered for a moment longer, before ultimately dying out. She yanked the key out of the ignition with more force than necessary and threw it at the windshield, watching it clatter onto the dashboard. "You've gotta be kidding me," she groaned softly, pinching the bridge of her nose, fighting off the sense of hopelessness washing over her.

The smell of exhaust floated through the open window, the steam becoming thicker. Anna's head snapped up, worried that her truck was moments from combusting. She shoved the car door open and hopped out of the truck, moving to stand in front of the hood. After some jostling, she popped the hood open and took a step back, coughing as she ingested some of the fumes. A few moments later, the smoke settled and she approached the car once more.

Anna had no idea what she was supposed to be doing. Sure, she knew how to jumpstart a car or check the oil, easy things that her older brother, Ben, had taught her years ago. But other than that, this was unfamiliar territory. She wished so desperately that she'd payed more attention to her brother's lessons — maybe it would've helped her now.

Sweat dripped down the back of her neck, soaking into the collar of her flannel. She swiftly pulled her long brown hair into a ponytail, pushing the shorter pieces that fell into her face behind her ears. She shrugged off the flannel, feeling much cooler in just a white tank top, and tied the extra layer around her waist.

With a huff, Anna placed her hands on her hips and stared down at the mess of metal below, unsure of what she was even looking at. She gnawed on her bottom lip anxiously — the last thing she wanted was to tinker with something and cause further damage.

She sighed heavily. Now it was going to take her twice as long to get to downtown Atlanta — and that was _if_ she even made it that far on foot. The last she'd heard, Atlanta was a safe zone. The military had set up camp in the heart of the city with food, medical supplies, and weapons. Not only was it safe, but it was the last known location of her brother, who she'd lost contact with after communications dropped.

Heading to the city had been the original plan once the world went to shit, but after —

Anna felt a sudden _pang_ in her chest, caught off guard by the rush of emotion hitting her. Tears sprung to her eyes as she quickly grabbed the necklace hanging around her throat — a feeling of calm instantly washing over her. It was a long silver chain that fell just beneath the collar of her tank top, two objects strung through the coil.

Her parents wedding rings.

Anna's mom had died first. Right at the beginning of the end. It was during the time when no one had any idea what exactly they were up against — had no idea that a bite meant 'game over'.

Her dad followed just a few weeks later. After her mom passed, her dad just sort of… _faded_ _away_. He became a shell of a man, simply surviving for the sake of his daughter. And then she lost him too.

There had been a herd…they'd been surrounded…and her dad just…he just _let go_ — provided himself as a distraction long enough for her to get away. Once she'd stumbled out into the open, she'd spun around, desperately searching for her father. And then she'd spotted him, the first wave of walkers finally closing in on him…tearing into his flesh…

But he didn't scream…he didn't cry…he _smiled_.

The weight of someone's sacrifice was a heavy burden to bear.

Anna squeezed the rings in the palm of her hand, grounding herself back to reality, shoving the horrible memories into the dark recesses of her mind. Now wasn't the time to deal with her trauma — she had a broken down truck, nearly ten miles left to travel, and only a few hours left until nightfall.

Anna let the rings fall back into place against her chest. She leaned over the engine, trying to figure out where exactly the smoke was coming from. If she could just get the truck started again, all her problems would —

"My, oh, my…an' what'd we have here?" a voice suddenly rang out.

Anna jolted and spun around, her eyes landing on a man standing just a couple feet away, staring at her in a way that made her feel incredibly exposed. He was dirty from head to toe, as if he'd been rolling around the woods for hours. His jeans were torn and ratted, similar to his faded black tank top and leather vest. She watched his mouth curl up into a sinister grin.

"Now what's a pretty lil' thing like yerself doin' all the way out here in Bumblefuck, Georgia?" he cooed, sneering at her.

Struggling for words, Anna slowly inched backwards. This was the first survivor she'd seen since her father died. She'd made it a priority to stay away from other people after that fateful day. Walkers were deadly. But people…people were _cruel._

Anna cursed herself for forgetting her gun in the truck, leaving her defenseless.

"C'mon, darlin'. Ain't gonna bite ya," the man purred, taking a step closer. "Unless ya ask me ta'," he finished with a wink.

"I'm not looking for trouble," Anna managed to squeak out. It seemed like the right thing to say in the moment. But the man just laughed, loud and bellowing, as he rubbed a hand through his buzzed gray hair. Anna felt her heart pounding against her ribcage and wondered if the man could hear it from where he stood. "What'd you want?" she finally asked, feeling her backside hit the front of her truck.

The man feigned innocence. "Jus' tryna get ta' know ya. That a crime?" he shot back, eyes darkening, hands twitching at his sides, hovering a little _too_ close to the knife strapped to his belt.

Anna swallowed the lump in her throat as she began to maneuver around the truck, towards the drivers side door. She knew if she could make it to the open window, she could reach inside and grab her pistol off the passenger seat.

But the stranger seemed to catch on right away. "Why ya runnin' from me? I asked ya a damn question, woman!" the man snarled, voice threatening.

Then suddenly, he was rapidly closing the gap between them.

Anna spun on her heels and ran for the door, desperately reaching through the window for her gun. But right as her fingertips grazed the handle, she felt the man wrap his hand around her ponytail and yank her backwards. Anna cried out in pain as he spun her around and slammed her into the truck, keeping one hand wrapped in her hair, the other pressed against her throat.

Her breaths came out in huffs, a tremor racking through her. The man ticked his tongue disapprovingly, a mischievous look in his eyes. "Jus' what in the hell were ya thinkin', sweetheart?"

Anna glared at the man, deciding to let her rage override her fear.

"Whatcha hidin' in there?" the man inquired, jerking his head towards the truck. "Let's take a looksie, shall we?"

The man turned his attention away, giving Anna the opportunity to slam her heel into the top of his foot. He howled in pain and released her, giving her enough space to throw a solid right hook, connecting with the edge of his jaw. He stumbled backwards as she spun around once more, her fingertips finally closing around the gun's handle.

Anna turned back around just as the man regained his balance, immediately launching himself at her, slamming her body back into the truck with a grunt. She swung the gun towards him, but he quickly slapped it away, a single shot ringing through the air.

Before Anna could do anything else, the man overpowered her, wriggling the gun from her grasp and throwing it off to the side. In one swift motion, he had her arms pinned on either side of her head, pushing his body into hers, holding her firmly in place. He chuckled, slightly out of breath, a gleam in his eye expressing that he'd truly _enjoyed_ the little scuffle.

"Damn, girl. Ya got a nice arm on ya," he rumbled, licking the blood spilling from his split lip. "I like 'em feisty," he whispered, before spitting a glob of blood onto the pavement.

"I don't have much. Take it all. Just leave," Anna urged between heaving breaths.

The corner of his mouth quirked up into a smirk as he looked her up and down, hovering a moment _too long_ on her chest, pressing himself a little _too hard_ against her body. Anna spotted a light trace of white residue on the tip of his nose, noticed how dilated his eyes were, and figured the man as some type of junkie. "M' jus' lookin' ta' have a lil' fun, is all," he mused with a shrug, finally letting go of her hands and pulling out the hunting knife from his belt.

Holding the blade towards her, he bent down and scooped up her gun. "Ya know, I'm feelin' _mighty_ generous today. Imma jus' take a couple things an' be on my merry way," the man spoke cooly, sniffing loudly as he rubbed his nose with the crook of his elbow, wiping away the cocaine remnants.

When Anna didn't respond, he went about his business. The man tucked her gun into the waistband of his pants and opened the door to her truck, rummaging through her belongings and throwing the things he didn't want onto the pavement.

Anna stared off into the trees, standing motionless. Part of her wanted to fight back — he was vulnerable, especially with his back to her. But he was also stronger, faster, and now had not _one_ , but _two_ weapons.

The man slipped out of the truck, empty-handed except for her water canteen he'd found and his hunting knife. "Ya weren't lyin' when ya said ya don't have much," he grunted, cracking the canteen open and taking a long swig, finishing the remaining amount of liquid. Anna felt her stomach drop — that had been _all_ the water she had left. He screwed the top back on and threw the now empty container onto the ground. "Ya ain't got _shit_ , girl."

Anna remained quiet, seething silently. He once again looked her up and down, almost curiously, before his eyes settled on her neck. "Gimme that," he stated, pointing towards her necklace with his knife.

Anna's hand immediately came up to clutch the chain, her heart stilling. "It was my parents," she whispered, as if sentiment would make a difference.

The man scoffed irritably. "An' now it's mine."

Anna slowly lowered her hand, willing herself not to cry in front of the horrible man.

He reached towards her, his hand hovering just above her chest. His fingers lightly traced the top of her cleavage as he fished out the bottom part of the necklace. He puffed his chest out, clearly pleased with himself.

Anna clenched her hands into fists to stop herself from clawing his eyes out.

He examined the wedding rings in the palm of his hand. "Mighty fine rings ya got here," he stated with a low whistle before pulling the necklace up and over her head and sliding it over his own.

An emptiness settled over Anna's chest where the rings used to lay. The last remaining pieces of her mother and father now hung around the neck of a monster. "Look, you can have anything else, just…just not that necklace," Anna offered desperately. She simply couldn't let that man walk away with such a big piece of herself.

The man just chuckled, pulling out her gun from his waistband.

"You can have anything else —" Anna urged, taking a step towards him, not even remotely phased by the gun now pointed at her head.

"Back up, lil' lady. Hate ta' ruin that pretty face ya got there."

"You don't understand — "

"Are ya deaf or jus' fuckin' dumb? I said back —"

"I'll do anything!"

The man paused, that malicious gleam returning in his eye and it didn't take a genius to know where his mind was at. "Well, I'll be damned…are ya hittin' on me, sweetheart?" he taunted, licking his lips quickly, shoving the gun back into his waistband. "Maybe if ya ask nicely…"

Anna's body stilled and she immediately regretted opening her mouth. A spark of rage suddenly coursed through her. There was no way she was going to give this monster the satisfaction of begging. "Go to hell," she suddenly growled, enjoying the look of disbelief that shot across his face.

But he quickly recovered, grabbing her by the elbow and pulling her close, moving to hold his knife at her neck. "Wanna say that again, girl," he snarled, towering over her intimidatingly, his face close enough where she could smell the remnants of cigarettes on his breath.

Anna swallowed the lump growing in her throat, refusing to back down. "Go to hell, _asshole_ ," she spat through clenched teeth.

The man suddenly smiled, his wicked grin sending a shiver down her spin. "Suit yourself," he shrugged casually.

And then he began digging the tip of his knife into her throat.


	2. Chapter 2

_AHHH! The response to chapter 1 has been INCREDIBLE. I'm so happy you guys are enjoying so far and I cannot WAIT until we get to dive deeper into some beautiful moments, intense battles, and angsty goodness…_

 _Here's chapter 2! HAPPY READING!_

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Anna hissed, forcing herself to bite back the cry rising in her throat as she grabbed onto the man's wrist, trying to push his hand away from her throat. She felt her flesh beneath the tip of the blade split, warm liquid beginning to spill down her neck as the man chuckled darkly, lifting the knife from her throat.

She gasped, looking up at him wildly as she struggled against his hold. "Havin' fun yet?" he murmured, that dangerous gleam in his eye returning, clearly reveling in her fear.

But just as he brought the knife back down, a sound in the distance made him pause.

"The hell's goin' on here?" another voice suddenly rang out

Anna's head snapped towards the trees as a second man emerged, storming out of the forest and heading straight for the first man. He looked just as, if not _more_ , dirty than the first man — sporting a ratted, faded green shirt that he'd ripped the sleeves off of to turn into a tank top. His pants were torn and slightly too big for him, most likely hand-me-downs that hung off his hips. And his brown hair was cropped short, the longer pieces sticking onto the sweat coating his forehead.

Anna's first instinct was to cry out for help, to pray that this second stranger wasn't as twisted as the first — but then she noticed something. The similarities in their features, the gruff Georgian twang to their voices, the smug smirk that grew over the first man's face…and she realized that _they were on the same side._ Any thought Anna previously had of survival disappeared instantly.

"Nice of ya ta' join us," the first man jeered, lowering his knife and casually tossing an arm around Anna's shoulders, ignoring how she shrunk away from him.

The second man's eyes darted back and forth between the two. His gaze hovered a moment longer on Anna, his eyes then flickering down, spotting the blood trickling down her neck. "What the hell ya doin', Merle?" the second man suddenly snapped, addressing the first man — Merle — directly.

"Jus' havin' a lil' fun with the locals," Merle brushed off cooly, shoving his knife back into its sheath.

The second man shifted his weight back and forth, quickly surveying the rest of the scene — the ransacked car, the look of fear in Anna's eyes, the look of triumph in Merle's — and put two and two together. Whatever his reaction was, he hid it well, his face turning even stonier than it already was. "Let's get the hell outta here," he rumbled, glancing at Anna once again.

She could've sworn she saw something flash through his eyes in that split second — it almost looked like _guilt_.

Merle scoffed, hacking another mouthful of blood onto the road. "Ain't done playin', lil' brother," he shot back, tightening his arm around Anna's shoulders, his fingers thrumming back and forth against her skin.

A chill settled over her bones as she attempted to wriggle away from Merle, who only dug his fingernails into the soft flesh on her arm. Anna glanced desperately over at Merle's brother, who seemed to be the more reasonable of the two.

The brother locked eyes with her, seeming to understand her silent plea. He quickly tore his gaze away and shook his head. "Nah, c'mon. Let's go," he urged, taking a step forward and placing a hand on his brother's shoulder to pull him away.

Merle shoved Anna to the side as he pushed his brother backwards. "Get on back ta' camp, Daryl," he ordered, a sharpness in his voice. "Ain't tellin' ya twice."

Then Merle twisted back around, pulling Anna's gun from his waistband and reaching towards her. Anna shook her head back and forth frantically, holding her hands up. "No, no, no, please don't — "

"Hey!" Daryl shouted, suddenly appearing right on Merle's heels, grabbing his arm and pulling him away.

Merle spun around and once again, shoved Daryl back. "The fuck's wrong with ya!" he growled wildly, getting in his brother's face.

" _Me_? What's wrong with _you_!" Daryl snarled, pushing Merle in return before pointing a finger in Anna's direction. "We supposed ta' be findin' food for our people an' instead I find ya out here, gettin' high an' pullin' _this_ shit? _Again_?"

Merle rolled his eyes dramatically. "Ain't make no difference much, now does it? We all gon' get what's comin' in the end. Ain't that right, lil' brother?"

"Your a real piece a' work, ya know that?" Daryl snapped, eyes narrowed into slits, face drawn into a permanent scowl.

"Don't fuckin' come at _me_ all high an' damn holy all the sudden," Merle shot back, his agitation growing — partly from Daryl's objections, partly from the drugs coursing through him. "Did ya forget 'bout our lil' plan here ta' begin with? Did ya forget why we decided ta' put up with those goodie goodies a' all? Don't go switchin' sides on yer big brother, now. Ta' hell with those fruity ass people! They gon' get what's comin' ta' them. They ain't _our_ _people_. Never was, never gonna be. Me an' you, Darlina — that's _all_ we got."

Anna saw Daryl clench his jaw, looking thoroughly done with his brothers antics as his finger twitched towards the crossbow strapped across his back. She hadn't even realized he was armed in the midst of all the chaos.

It felt like a private moment happening between the two brothers, like she'd accidentally stepped into the middle of their lives — and she wanted _no_ part of it. While the two men were distracted with each other, Anna began slowly inching away. But she didn't make it far before Merle's voice cut through the air. "An' where the hell ya sneakin' off ta', cupcake?"

Anna's body stilled, her head snapping up, eyes locking with Merle's. And then suddenly, he was raising her gun…aiming the barrel at her head…and —

"Hey!"

Anna's gaze swung over to Daryl, who now held his crossbow in his hands, the tip of the arrow pressed up against Merle's temple.

Everyone froze. Anna couldn't hear anything over the blood pounding in her ears. She held her breath, watching Daryl's eyes darken as they frantically bounced between her and Merle — yet his crossbow remained steady, his grip unwavering.

Merle, on the other hand, just chuckled and Anna was starting to realize that laughter seemed to be his automatic default. He whistled through his teeth, glancing at Daryl over his shoulder. "Lookie who decided ta' put on his big boy panties today," he sneered and although his expression was furious, Anna could almost hear a sense of _pride_ in his voice.

"Drop it," Daryl growled, voice low and threatening.

"Well, ain't that a bitch. Ya rather side with the skank than yer own flesh an' blood," Merle scoffed, shaking his head.

When Daryl didn't waver, Merle rolled his eyes dramatically, lowering the gun with a sour look on his face. "Give it back ta' her," Daryl continued, nodding towards the pistol.

Merle once again scoffed, almost incredulously, and threw the gun off to the side.

The archer slowly lowered his weapon, any emotion he was feeling masked by that same stoic look permanently etched on his face. Merle started to move away, but Daryl quickly stepped in front of him. "An' that," he said simply, pointing at the necklace wrapped around Merle's throat.

Merle muttered a string of curses under his breath as he ripped the necklace off and threw it at Anna's feet. He glanced up at her and winked. "See ya 'round, darlin'," he smirked, before clapping Daryl a little _too_ forcefully on the back and storming away.

Even as Anna watched him stalk off into the forest, she could _still_ feel her heart hammering in her chest, afraid he'd change his mind and come back for her.

She quickly bent down and picked up her necklace with shaky fingers, pulling it over her head and exhaling heavily. She clutched the chain and squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her other hand against the cut on her neck, wincing from the contact.

Anna was vaguely aware of Daryl's presence, who apparently hadn't followed his brother into the woods. Her eyes shot open, turning to glare at the man, about to tell him to get lost, but something about his expression stopped her.

He was watching her, standing completely still, expression drawn tight — but his eyes…his eyes she couldn't quite place.

"M' sorry 'bout my brother," Daryl suddenly spoke, breaking the tension. It was the first time he'd addressed her directly and she simply didn't know what to say. When she remained silent, the archer continued gruffly. "He's a real prick sometimes."

Anna scoffed humorlessly. "Yeah, no shit," she bit back sharply, breaking eye contact with the man.

Wordlessly, she marched over to where Merle had thrown her gun and picked it up, shoving it into the waistband of her jeans. Feeling much safer now that she had her weapon back, she began scooping up everything that had been thrown out of her truck and tossed it all into the backseat. She could feel Daryl watching her move about the scene, yet he made no attempt to help.

Which was _fine_.

She didn't want his help. She wanted him to leave her the hell alone.

A fresh wave of anger started building up inside of her. Who the hell did this guy think he was? His brother nearly killed her and now he was just standing there, watching her pick up the few pieces left of her life?

Anna spun around, about to tell Daryl _exactly_ where he could stick his apology, but then once again, he spoke up. "Want me ta' take a look?"

She froze, confusion spreading over her face. "Excuse me?" she snapped, placing a hand on her hip.

"The truck…I meant the truck," he clarified, motioning to the open hood. "Maybe I can, uh, get 'er up an' runnin' or somethin'," he offered, slinging his crossbow off his shoulder.

Anna's eyebrows furrowed as she stared at the man warily. "Why?" she demanded.

Daryl simply shrugged one shoulder up, shaking his head slightly. "Least I can do."

Her expression faltered, some of her anger fading. She gave the archer a once over with guarded eyes, trying to gauge whether or not this was some kind of trap. But the man seemed genuine enough from what she could sense — and she also desperately needed a working vehicle if she stood any chance of making it to Atlanta. "I guess," she finally agreed, nodding her head once.

The man said nothing else and headed straight for the truck, propping his crossbow up against the front wheel. He exhaled heavily as he surveyed beneath the hood, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Anna watched from the side as Daryl began fiddling with different parts, working silently and efficiently. His fingers moved delicately, which came as a surprise considering how he seemed a bit 'rough around the edges', to say the least.

He peeked up and did a quick double take, seeming surprised that she'd been watching him. It could've been the Georgian heat, but she thought she saw the tip of his ears turn a light shade of pink.

"There's, uh, there's some tools in the back if you need them. Not much in there, but maybe something could help," Anna murmured, crossing her arms over her chest.

Daryl just grunted once, which she figured meant 'yes'.

Anna made her way to the bed of the truck, hoisting herself up and grabbing the toolbox stashed near the front of the cab. Hefting the box back around the truck, she dropped it near Daryl's feet and took a couple steps back, letting him continue his work in peace.

She finished gathering all her belongings that had been strewn across the road, keeping a wary eye on the archer and her hand on her pistol — just in case.

Afterwards, she used one of side mirrors to survey the damage done to her neck. The cut wasn't as bad as she'd thought, not too deep or wide, and it was finally starting to coagulate. Using the sleeve of her flannel still wrapped around her waist, Anna wet the cloth with her tongue and began wiping away the dried blood. After cleaning herself up, she was able to get a good look at the wound. It was only about an inch long gash, but there was always a possibility it would scar.

Anna already had her fair share of scars, but a simmering anger bubbled through her at the thought of her newest. _Walkers were deadly. People were cruel._

Anna pushed away from the mirror, coming to stand near the hood, leaning casually against the truck. Daryl didn't acknowledge her, but she saw his shoulders stiffen slightly. He didn't seem big on conversation, choosing to work in silence rather than awkward small talk, but she was too curious for her own good. "So, you've got a camp around here?" she probed, more so a statement rather than a question.

Daryl glanced up at her from under his eyebrows, almost trying to gauge her words — like he was deciding whether or not _she_ was a threat. He focused back on the truck and grunted once.

Anna took that as another 'yes'.

"How many people are in your group?" she inquired, crossing her arms over her chest.

Daryl just mumbled incoherently under his breath, not taking his eyes off whatever he was fiddling with.

Anna took that as a 'none of your damn business'.

"Where ya headed?" Daryl suddenly spoke, making her pause. She hadn't expected a question in return.

"Uh, the city, actually. I hear Atlanta's safe," Anna finally murmured, staring down at her boots.

The archer shot Anna a funny look, before uttering two single words that shattered her world completely. "Atlanta's gone."


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks for all the love! I'm sorry if the pace is a bit slow, but I'm trying to turn this into a true series and all the good stuff can't happen all at once! Hope you babes understand._

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" _What_?" Anna whispered in horror, her head snapping up at his response.

Daryl quirked a brow and straightened, wiping his hands on a red rag he'd pulled from his back pocket. "Ain't nothin' left. Jus' them geeks. Whole damn city's overrun," he rumbled, watching her reaction carefully.

"How do you know?" she demanded, unable to stop the sharpness in her voice.

Daryl didn't seem to be affected by her tone and continued on. "We got a guy. Makes runs downtown. Says everythin's gone ta' shit."

"But…but they said Atlanta was a safe zone," Anna shot back desperately, her thoughts immediately going to her brother, who had still been in the city last she spoke to him. "There's a refugee center and everything — the broadcasts _said_ to go there. They said that the military set up camp —"

"Military up an' left," Daryl interjected. "Or turned if they didn't."

Anna felt her last remaining bit of hope shatter, the pieces scattering amongst the ashes of her heart as images of her family clouded her mind. Her father skimming over the morning paper, peering over his reading glasses as he sipped a steaming mug of coffee…her mother perched in front of her vanity mirror, gently brushing her hair…her brother hunched over his car's engine, patiently pointing out each part and its purpose to his little sister who was thrilled to be spending time with him.

Her entire family was gone, ripped away by this horrible new world. Her parent's were dead and now her brother was…well, he might as well be dead too.

Anna dropped her head to her chest, hiding the tears that suddenly sprang to her eyes. Atlanta had been a long shot — but it'd been her _only_ shot. And she wasn't naive. Part of her had always thought that maybe her brother had left the city before the outbreak got too out of hand — maybe he found a less populated town to hole up in. But now, hearing that the city had been totally _destroyed_ …what if he never even made it out of Atlanta to begin with?

Ben could be dead. Ben could be missing. Ben could be hiding out in the middle of nowhere. But all Anna knew for sure was that he was _gone_. The chances of finding her brother _now_ were nonexistent, the reality weighing on her heart like an anchor. _She would never see him again_.

Anna could feel Daryl's gaze burning a hole into her and quickly pushed away from the truck, heading towards the cab instead. Wiping a tear that snaked down her cheek, she hopped into the bed of the truck, letting her legs dangle off the back.

Toying absently with her necklace, Anna brushed away another tear, staring blankly down the long deserted road behind her. She had no idea what she was supposed to do now. Things felt incredibly hopeless, incredibly bleak, and she suddenly found herself wondering what purpose she truly had left here.

Anna heard the hood slam shut and Daryl's footsteps quietly approaching, coming to stop beside her. She peeked over at him, noticing how he was staring off in the general direction she had been, eyes far away. He stood awkwardly, like he had something to say but couldn't exactly get the words together, which led him to just shift his weight back and forth.

For the second time, Anna wondered what this man was _still_ doing here. Trying to make up for Merle's actions? Trying to pay off some kind of debt he thought he owed? Whatever he was trying to accomplish, he didn't need to suffer through her misery alongside her.

"Why are you still here?" Anna whispered thickly — not accusingly, more so just curious.

Daryl seemed thrown off by her question, looking even more uncomfortable as he shrugged a shoulder up, grunting softly — almost like he himself didn't even have that answer. "What's in Atlanta?" he suddenly asked.

Anna cast her eyes down, letting her necklace fall back into place as she took a steady breath. "My brother," she murmured, hating the way her voice broke.

Daryl didn't respond, instead choosing to just nod absently. Loss was a part of life — and it became a _bigger_ part of life after the world ended. It was the nature of the game. People lived, people died, people _suffered_ — it was just how things were.

Anna glanced over at Daryl, her brown eyes locking with his blue ones — his expression remained impassive, but something deep in his gaze shifted as a moment of silence passed between the two strangers.

The archer suddenly cleared his throat, pushing away from the truck. "Uh, try startin' 'er up."

A small glimmer of hope bubbled in Anna'a chest as she hopped off the truck. She slid past Daryl, yanked open the drivers side door and jumped inside. Grabbing the keys still lying on the dashboard, she said a silent prayer and shoved them into ignition.

Then, she took a deep breath, turned the key, and the sweetest noise she'd ever heard in her entire life filled the air — _an engine roaring to life_.

Anna's breath caught in her throat as she squeezed her eyes shut, letting her head fall back against the headrest, reveling in the moment. She opened her eyes and looked over at Daryl, who was standing next to the open door, the corner of his mouth quirked up in what she assumed was the closest she was going to get to a smile.

"I don't even know what to say," Anna murmured, catching his eye. "How did you do it? I can't…you just… _thank you_ ," she babbled, hoping her words expressed how truly grateful she was.

Daryl merely shrugged, clearly not comfortable taking a compliment. "Gonna need another car soon. Engine's pretty shot," he mumbled, shutting the door softly, but hovering near the open window.

"Thank you," Anna said again, feeling some pressure lift off her chest.

Daryl nodded once, scooping up his crossbow and slinging it over his shoulder. He took a couple steps backwards, clearly waiting for her to drive off.

But Anna paused. She wasn't exactly sure what her next move was. She could still head for Atlanta, regardless of what Daryl told her. She knew where Ben's apartment was — maybe she could find answers there. Maybe he was even still _alive,_ waiting for her to arrive. It'd be a suicide mission, navigating a city full of the dead on her own…but then again, what did she truly have to live for?

"Fort Benning," Daryl suddenly spoke.

Anna turned her head, looking at him curiously. "What?"

"Fort Benning. The army base. Hear it's a safe zone, still up an' runnin', an' all. There's been talk a' my group headin' that way," he offered, adjusting the strap of his crossbow restlessly.

Anna nodded thoughtfully. If Ben wasn't in Atlanta, maybe he'd made the trek to Fort Benning. It was definitely a possibility with it being the next closest safe zone. "Thank you, Daryl," she murmured, now feeling like _she_ owed _him_ something. "Is there anything…can I give you something, or — I-I don't have much but — " she began rambling.

"Nah," he immediately interjected, shaking his head.

Anna sighed. It still felt unfair to just _leave_. "Are you sure —"

"We're square," he countered with a nod, voice unwavering.

And then with nothing more left to say, Anna shot him a small smile, put the truck into drive and started forward.

She'd only driven a couple feet when she heard Daryl call after her. "Hey!" he shouted and she slammed on the breaks, putting the truck back into park.

Anna stuck her head out the window in confusion as the archer jogged towards her. "What is it?" she asked, puzzled as he came to a stop beside her.

"Look, uh…uh," he paused, eyebrows furrowed as he cocked his head to the side.

Anna then realized that the man didn't even know her name. "Oh," she murmured, a bit embarrassed. "Anna."

Daryl nodded. "Look, Anna, if ya want — my group, we're, uh, we're holed up by the quarry on the other side a' the mountain. End a' the road here, ya make a left. Head up the mountain for 'bout half a mile," he spilled out, almost in one breath. "If ya ain't got no where ta' go."

Anna couldn't hide the shock from her face. That was the last thing she'd expected to come out of his mouth — and she couldn't say she wasn't _intrigued_ by the thought of not toughing it out on her own anymore.

But after her little encounter with Merle…maybe sticking it out alone was her best bet. "Thank you. But, I'll be okay," Anna declined.

Daryl nodded, shrugging a shoulder up. "If ya change your mind, then. We got food…people… _protection_ ," he added with emphasis. "Ain't too smart bein' out here on your own anymore."

Then Merle's face popped into her mind and his _"see ya 'round, darlin',"_ echoed in her ear. "I'm probably safer out here than in a camp with your brother," she couldn't stop herself from spitting out, hearing the venom clearly in her voice.

"He won't bother ya," Daryl immediately shot back, resolutely.

"How do you —"

"I'll make sure of it."

And she believed him.

But, Anna didn't _know_ him — _any_ of them, for that matter. And her stubbornness got the best of her. "Thanks for everything."

Daryl seemed to get the hint and nodded once, taking a step back from the window.

Anna sent him a small wave, before driving off. She looked in the rearview mirror to find Daryl standing in the middle of the road, watching her drive off. She kept checking the reflection until he was nothing but a speck behind her.

As she continued down the road, she couldn't help but start to second guess herself — had she made the right decision? Had she made the _smart_ decision? Were those decisions even the _same_ anymore?

She was torn.

Sure, there was safety in numbers. There was also resources back at Daryl's camp — resources that she just did _not_ have right now, _water_ being the most vital. Atlanta was apparently in ruins and who was to say that Ben would even still _be_ there? Fort Benning was another option, but what if that place had also been taken over by the dead? It was nearly a hundred miles away from where she was — would she be able to make that trek on her own?

And then there was _Daryl_. He was the first person she'd come across who gave her hope that not everyone left on earth was a prick. She felt _okay_ with him around — something she hadn't felt in a long time.

But Anna hadn't come this far just to _give up_. She knew how to take care of herself. She knew she could make it at least another five miles to Atlanta. And she had a big brother out there somewhere, maybe looking for her the same way she was looking for him.

The truck rumbled beneath her as she slowed, coming to a stop at the end of the road. Anna looked left and right — left sent her up the mountain towards Daryl's group and right sent her towards the city.

Anna grabbed her necklace, squeezing her parents rings in the palm of her hand as her stomach flip-flopped.

She'd made it this far on her own. If Ben _was_ somewhere alive out there, she'd never forgive herself for not at least _trying_ to find him. He was all she had left.

His final words to her on their last phone call rang through her mind — _"It's gonna be okay, Annie. Me, you, mom, and dad, we're all gonna be okay. The freakin' military just rolled into the city, so don't you worry about me, okay? I'm safe. Just focus on getting you guys to Atlanta. We'll figure this out together. I promise."_

Anna took a deep breath. "I'm comin', big brother," she murmured, determination coursing through her as she finally turned right.

But as she drove towards the city now populated by the dead, thoughts of her brothers promise replaying in her mind, another voice made itself known — _"I'll make sure of it."_

Anna swallowed the lump in her throat, pushing away any thoughts regarding the gruff redneck who'd saved her life.

She was on a mission — live or die, this was the right decision. Family was the most important thing and damn it, if she didn't have her family, what did she really have left?

Forcing herself to take a calming breath, Anna began to map out a game plan as the Atlanta skyline came into view.

* * *

 _I'd love to hear your thoughts! Please review and let me know what you think!_


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N** : __I'm so happy everyone is enjoying this series so far! I've also gotten a lot of positive feedback about Anna's addition to the story, so I'm super pumped y'all are liking her! Thanks for all the love!_

 _Side note…is this posting schedule working for everyone? Once a week on Sunday's? Let me know below!_

* * *

The simple five-mile trek to the city ended up taking much longer than expected.

The closer Anna got to Atlanta, the more walkers she stumbled upon — some in groups, some ambling about solo. But she'd spotted a larger looking herd spread out along the main highway and decided backroads were her safest bet.

Once the sun began to set, allowing some of that brutal Georgian heat to fade, Anna decided to pull over for the night, not wanting to navigate the city in the dark. She discovered a rundown gas station with an attached market right on the outskirts of the city and figured it was as safe as any to hole up in for the night. Seeing as Merle had drunk all of her remaining water earlier, she was in desperate need of supplies and prayed the mini-mart hadn't already been ransacked.

Anna parked her pickup behind the building, slung her backpack over her shoulder, and scanned the area for any signs of biters or other survivors. When all seemed quiet, she crept through the back door of the building, feeling her heart drop when she noticed that the door had already been broken down.

Keeping her pistol aimed and ready, Anna slithered through the back storage area, forcing herself not to gag as the smell of rotted produce hit her. She paused at the doorway that led into the main area, waiting with baited breath for any telltale signs of walkers — but all she heard was silence.

Anna took a breath and continued into the store. She inspected each aisle thoroughly, her gun never wavering from her vice-like grip — but she eventually came to the comforting realization that the store was vacant. She exhaled heavily, feeling her nerves settle for the first time since she'd been on the road.

Anna glanced through the dirty, smudge-stained front windows and spotted the dimming sun — it's brilliant orange and red colors setting the room ablaze around her. She figured she had about thirty minutes left of sunlight — enough time to search the store for supplies _and_ barricade all the entrances.

As suspected, the mini-mart had already been scavenged, leaving little to no supplies that would prove useful. She _did_ manage to find a couple jars of canned food that had rolled underneath the shelves — most likely knocked over by walkers or hurried survivors that hadn't bothered to crawl along the floor in search of them — and a couple protein bars hidden behind the counter. It wasn't much — she would _still_ feel that ever looming ache of hunger in her gut — but it would keep her alive for a couple more days and that was what mattered.

Finding water became her main issue — humans could go a month without food, but three days without water…now, _that_ was a death sentence.

The refrigerators had been totally cleared out — except for a single can of Red Bull that'd been wedged underneath the bottom rack. Anna popped open the Red Bull, desperate to quench her growing thirst. The moment the lukewarm liquid hit her lips, instant relief washed over her, no matter how brief the sensation. She forced herself to take only three small sips, saving the rest for later, before continuing her search.

Anna checked the small, dingy bathroom next, the stench inside enough to send her stomach rolling. But she held her breath and made her way towards the sink, turning on the faucet in hopes that the pipes might still have some water left in them — she wasn't all too surprised when they turned up empty. It'd been a long shot, but she was growing more desperate with each minute that ticked by.

Right before she turned to leave, her reflection in the mirror above the sink caught her attention. She froze, using her hand wipe away some of the grime coating the glass, unable to hide her shaky intake of breath as she looked at herself fully for the first time in weeks.

She was covered in a mixture of blood and dirt, the dried flakes caked into every crevice of her body, masking her Italian complexion. Her once vibrant, dark brown hair now hung limply down her back, stringy from grease and sweat and lack of basic hygiene. Her face was too thin, with hollowed out cheekbones and light brown eyes that looked too big for her face. With a shaky hand, Anna softly ran her hand over her features, hovering for a moment over her jutted out collarbones.

She was beginning to look like one of the dead.

But it was her eyes that scared her the most — dark circles beneath vacant eyes that had seen too much and done too little. She barely recognized the twenty-seven-year-old woman staring back at her — it was some sort of twisted, warped version of herself, obscured by thick, suffocating layers of pain and guilt and _hopelessness_.

Anna quickly shoved away from the mirror, unable to stand the sight of herself any longer. She slammed the door to the bathroom shut behind her, taking a moment to lean against the wood and calm her breathing. Her hands trembled at her sides — she told herself it was from lack of sleep and nutrients. But she knew deep down that wasn't true.

"Focus," Anna murmured quietly, squeezing her eyes shut to keep from screaming. She licked her chapped lips, her mouth feeling drier than ever as she contemplated her next move.

The sun was just a sliver now, sinking deeper into the Earth. Anna pushed away from the bathroom door, determined to finish what she started before darkness enveloped the store.

She made quick work of closing off the two main exits in the front and back, using old slabs of plywood from the storage room and scattered shelving units to block the open doorways. Her last means of protection was gathering empty cans she found strewn around the store and piling them beneath the single busted open window — so if anyone tried to sneak in through the night, she'd hear them before she saw them.

Anna set up a makeshift bed hidden behind the counter — using her backpack as a pillow and her flannel as a blanket. She tried not to think about how dirty the floor was. Did it really matter at this point?

Anna took a deep breath, turning onto her side and curling her knees into her chest, feeling a shiver wrack through her as she pulled her flannel tighter around her. She couldn't remember the last time she'd fallen asleep unafraid. Even when her parents were alive and she wasn't surviving on her own, she never slept sound. There were just too many bad things that could happen while her eyes were closed.

She watched the final moments of sunlight dance along the wall before nighttime swallowed the colors into its shadows. The store was deathly still, void of any sound besides Anna's quiet breathing — the silence was deafening, almost too much to bear.

Anna slipped her hand into her backpack, pulling out a small flashlight she kept in the side pocket and switched the light on. She exhaled shakily, pointing the bright beam on the wall opposite of her. A memory came rushing back to her as she stared at the illuminated, off-white drywall.

 _Anna's four-year-old eyes were wide and fearful as she watched the relentless strokes of lightning bounce off her bedroom walls, a deep rumble of thunder shaking her room soon after. Her fingers gripped tightly around the edge of her blanket, pulling the soft fabric up to her chin as she trembled. With each bolt of lightning, the shadows of the branches outside her window flashed onto her walls like outstretched fingers, inching closer and closer to her with each strike._

 _A particularly earth-shattering crack of thunder evoked a sharp yelp out of Anna's mouth, causing her to jump out of bed and rush out of her room. She crept down the hallway, her favorite stuffed bunny tucked safely between her arm and ribcage. She reached the door next to her own and pressed her ear against the wood, waiting to hear any signs of movement. Another deep rumbling shook the floor beneath her and Anna quietly cracked the door open._

 _She slipped inside the room, gently closing the door behind her. Hovering at the doorway, she squeezed her stuffed bunny to her chest, straining her eyes to see through the dark. "Ben?" she whispered softly but heard nothing in return. "Ben?" she tried again a little louder._

 _Anna heard sheets rustle before a groggy voice spoke up. "Annie?"_

 _"I'm scared," Anna squeaked, wincing as another bolt of lightning lit up the room._

 _"Where's mom and dad?" Ben rasped sleepily, propping himself up onto his elbows._

 _"Daddy said not to bother Mommy when she's not feeling good."_

 _She heard her ten-year-old brother sigh softly, followed by some more rustling. "C'mere," he murmured._

 _"But I can't see anything," she pointed out, fear lacing her words._

 _Anna heard another long sigh come from Ben. His bed creaked as he slipped out from under the covers and padded over to where his sister stood. "Here," he yawned, reaching out and taking her hand in his._

 _She squeezed onto his grasp, already feeling safer alongside her big brother as he guided her back towards his bed. Anna scurried up the mattress, wiggling under the covers and scooting over to make room on the tiny mattress. Ben slid under the sheets beside her, making himself comfortable once more._

 _But Anna couldn't seem to shake her panic. Her eyes were glued to the window, watching the trees bend with the howling wind, waiting for one to snap and come hurling through the glass. "Ben?"_

 _"Hm?" the older brother hummed tiredly._

 _"I'm scared."_

 _Ben yawned, rolling onto his side, his back facing Anna. "It's fine. Go to sleep," he murmured, words jumbled as he fought off sleep._

 _"Are we gonna die?" Anna whispered meekly, pulling the covers up to her chin as she scooted a fraction of an inch closer to her brother._

 _Ben's eyes shot open and he slowly rolled over onto his other side, coming face to face with Anna's wide eyes. "Don't worry," he finally murmured. "It's just a storm."_

 _She nodded her head quickly but jumped as another roar of thunder sounded, her eyes shooting back to watch the window. Ben frowned slightly. "Hey," he nudged his sister with his elbow, her eyes locking back with his. "Wanna see something cool?"_

 _Anna nodded once again, holding her bunny closer to her chest. Ben grunted as he scooted himself up into a sitting position, reaching into the drawer of his nightstand and pulling out a flashlight from the back. Anna watched inquisitively as Ben made himself comfortable, leaning his back against the headboard, propping a pillow up beneath him — his sister mimicked his stance._

 _"What're you doing?" she asked, her curiosity briefly distracting her from the storm._

 _Ben flicked on the flashlight. "Watch this," he whispered, pointing the beam of light onto the opposite wall. Then, he twisted his hands into a specific shape and held them in front of the flashlight, his shadow lighting up the wall._

 _"A puppy!" Anna gasped, a toothy smile spreading over her face as she watched the shadow dance along the wall._

 _Ben grinned, transforming his hand from a dog to a duck. "Quack, quack!" he sounded quietly, eliciting a giggle from his sister who watched in awe._

 _"Whoa," she breathed, mystified._

 _"Pretty neat, huh?" he smirked, her eyes lighting up as Ben created a new animal on the wall._

 _"A bunny!" Anna squealed, scrambling to kneel on the bed. "Like mine, Ben! See! Look!" she beamed, holding her bunny towards her brothers face._

 _Ben nodded, patting the top of the bunny's head gently. "See? The dark's not so scary. You just gotta find a light. And then you can make shadow puppets."_

 _Anna smiled sweetly, wriggling back under the covers, her eyes never leaving the wall. Ben glanced down at her, watching her eyelids grow heavier as he continued to create more animals, the shadows gliding along the wall._

 _The storm began to settle — the thunderous roars dimming, the lightning becoming less frequent — as Anna finally fell asleep, her head lolling over to rest against Ben's shoulder. He sighed, her soft snores tugging at his heart as he flicked off his flashlight._

 _Not wanting to wake her, Ben remained sitting upright, instead choosing to rest his head on top of hers, until sleep eventually came for him as well._

Anna snapped back to reality, feeling a sob rise in her throat as she watched the flashlight shine against the mini-marts crumbling wall. With a shaky hand, she held two fingers in front of the light, creating the outline of a bunny's shadow against the wall. She sniffled, feeling a tear slide down her cheek as she thought of her brother and how badly she wished he were with her right now. He would know what to do. He always did.

Anna heard a gust of wind blow outside, the trees groaning in protest, leaves scraping against the pavement as they swirled alongside the breeze. Not wanting to waste whatever little amount of battery she had left, she turned the flashlight off, becoming consumed in nothing but darkness.

She held the flashlight to her chest, curling inward as a hunger pain rocked through her body, her lips cracked and dry with thirst, unease coursing through her veins.

Then, with nothing more left to do, Anna cried herself into a restless sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N :** This chapter is a bit short - sorry to disappoint! But I promise that the next chapter is nearly twice as long! Thank you for all the wonderful feedback! I couldn't stop smiling reading everyone's comments! I love when you babes share your thoughts and opinions with me! It makes this process so much more enjoyable! So thank you!_

* * *

Anna woke up the next morning feeling more exhausted than ever.

She'd tossed and turned all night, afraid the moment she closed her eyes, something would go horribly wrong. Every time she felt herself begin to doze off, flashes of blood and death would invade her mind, making sleep a futile thing. She could feel the ever-present dark circles under her eyes growing and wondered if she'd ever sleep well again.

Anna scoffed aloud at the concept of sleeping through the night 'nightmare free'. She hadn't had a good nights sleep since the world went to shit…and even before that, her dreams had been plagued with the horrors from her everyday life…

Anna scrubbed at her face, hoping a little blood flow would get her up and moving, but she found her limbs heavy as lead. She stared up at the decaying ceiling, feeling the Georgian heat beginning to press against her bones, the day already suffocatingly humid. A bead of sweat dripped down the side of her face, settling at the nape of her neck.

She needed to find water and _soon_ — otherwise, she'd most likely die from dehydration before she even set foot in Atlanta.

Anna groaned softly as she pulled herself into a sitting position, absently rubbing her empty stomach, her fingers tracing the faint outlines of her ribcage — she hadn't been able to feel her ribs last week. Things were not looking too good for her right now.

With a sigh, Anna clambered to her feet, dragging her backpack and flannel off the ground with her. She straightened out her dirty, torn jeans that hung off her hips, fastening her belt as tight as possible, hating how much room she still had between the fabric and her skin.

Ignoring the nagging in her head that told her she was slowly starving to death, she stretched out the kinks in her neck as she glanced out the front store window. If she had to guess, she'd say it was late morning — the sun wasn't at its peak, but the morning dew had already settled — which gave her more than enough time to trek into the city and find her brother's apartment — and hopefully _her_ _brother_ — before nightfall.

Anna started pulling everything out from her backpack, laying it on the counter to take inventory — two cans of string beans, one can of peaches, two protein bars, an open can of Red Bull, half a bottle of Advil, a toothbrush and travel size bottle of toothpaste, half a roll of toilet paper, a flashlight, a can opener, one change of clothes, an empty canteen for water, and her gun with five bullets in the chamber. Her supplies were dwindling faster than she was able to restock and she wasn't sure how much longer she could survive off one can of string beans a day.

Anna took a generous swig from the opened Red Bull, knowing that the beverage would only result in further thirst but choosing to quench her parched lips instead. She unwrapped one of the protein bars, nibbling on the end as she toyed with the chain of her necklace.

She'd inspected the mini-mart top to bottom for water, but there was _nothing_ — no bottles, no jugs, no cases, no hidden stashes in the storage room, no water in the pipes, not even a god damn vending machine. Scavenging a surrounding neighborhood was an option, but that would delay her getting to Atlanta. Plus, she only had five bullets left and no other weapon on her, leaving her defenseless against more than a couple walkers. But no matter how badly she wanted to get to Atlanta, no matter how badly she wanted to find Ben…she needed to find water first.

Anna finished up her protein bar, ignoring her stomach's protest for more, and downed the rest of her Red Bull. She would just have to take half the day to scavenge — it was her only option at this point.

With a sigh, Anna shoved everything back into her pack, tied her flannel around her waist, and slipped her backpack over her shoulders. She scanned outside the front building, looking for any signs of the dead as she picked up her gun. Just a few lone walkers limped about the street, heading in the direction of the city. It was nothing to worry about — she would just sneak out the back, hop in her truck, and leave those biters in the dust.

Anna made her way out of the main room and into the storage area. She rolled away the shelving unit she'd propped up in front of the exit, pushing it to the side. But right before she moved the plywood she'd used to block off the open doorway, she paused, spotting something to her left.

A cooking pot.

Not the most convenient weapon of choice, but it was better than firing off her gun and risking the chance of attracting a bigger crowd of biters. Anna picked it up, testing the weight in her hand before tucking her gun into the waistband of her jeans. It would have to do.

Gripping the pot in her left hand, she used her right to pull away the piece of plywood, shielding her eyes for a moment against the glare of the sun bouncing off the pavement.

And then, after her eyes adjusted, she looked around — and what she saw made her stomach _drop_.

A herd. Right outside the mini-mart. Wandering across the back parking lot. Her appearance having drawn their attention solely on _her_.

"Oh _shit_ ," Anna whispered in horror, quickly scrambling back inside the store as the first walker made its swipe at her. "Shit, shit, shit," she hissed, gnashing her teeth together as she swung the pot towards the walker, slamming the bottom against the side of its head. Her heart hammered against her chest as more of the dead began to filter into the store, hungrily reaching for her as she stumbled backward, further into the storage room.

Anna's stomach plummeted as she smashed the pot against another walker that had gotten too close. _There were too many to fight off_. She frantically scanned the room, searching for a way out, when she suddenly spotted a rusted ladder attached to the back wall. She had no idea where it led, but if she couldn't go left, right, forward or backward…she would just have to go _up_.

Anna landed a powerful kick into the gut of the closest walker, watching as it fell backward into the crowd, knocking a couple others down like bowling pins. She took the opportunity to scramble over to the ladder and began climbing as fast as her body would allow her. She felt a hand wrap around her ankle but quickly kicked it off, climbing until her head touched the ceiling. Wrapping her shaking limbs around the ladders top rung, Anna looked down.

A mass of the dead crowded below her, the group so vast she could no longer see the floor. Outstretched hands reached up towards her, some soaked in blood, others rotting to the bone — but all vying for her flesh, fueled by nothing but innate hunger. Their collective groans grew into one deafening growl, sending Anna's heart into overdrive as her grip began to quiver around the rung.

Anna took a deep breath and forced herself to think rationally. Someone wouldn't attach a ladder to the wall if the ladder didn't lead _somewhere_ …she turned her gaze away from the dead and scanned the ceiling above her, using her fingertips to feel for some sort of door or latch.

Within seconds, she felt a groove in the ceiling. Using her finger, she followed the crack until she felt a handle. A burst of hope shot through her as she twisted the handle, using her shoulder to push the hatch up. Sunlight surged through the opening as Anna climbed through the hole and onto the flat top roof of the mini-mart, slamming the flap closed behind her.

Stumbling backward, Anna ran a shaky hand through her matted hair, sliding her backpack off her shoulders as she frantically looked around. She inched towards the edge of one side of the square building and peeked over, feeling as though someone punched her in the gut at the sight of how many walkers had swarmed there. She scrambled to look over the other three sides of the building, seeing nothing but an endless crowd of biters — even _more_ ambling out of the woods, drawn in by all the commotion.

Backing away from the edge, Anna fell to her knees, splaying her hands out in front of her, her fingernails digging into the concrete.

What the hell kind of ending was this? After everything she had been through, she was either going to climb off the roof and get massacred by walkers…or she was going to stay put and die a slow, miserable death due to starvation and dehydration. Feeling every ounce of fight drain out of her, Anna curled up on the roof, too tired and too discouraged to do anything else.

The roar of the dead below eventually dulled as Anna closed her eyes and thought of her family. She pictured her father's eyes — warm, like honey — so similar to hers. She remembered her mother's smile — weary, but bright — even on the days she couldn't muster the strength to get out of bed. She imagined her brother's hands — strong and calloused from spending hours working on car engines — guiding her away from their mother's hospital room…

Anna squeezed her eyes shut even tighter, curling her knees closer to her chest.

Things had gone from bad to worse to downright _shit_.

And now, the undeniable truth was this — for the second time in less than twenty-four hours, Anna Brooks was completely _screwed_.

* * *

 _ **QUESTION OF THE WEEK:** What would YOU do in this situation? Try to fight your way out or stay on the roof and hope the herd eventually loses interest?! Share your thoughts!_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Author's Note :** SURPRISE! Chapter 6 is here a day early! Thanks for all the love on the last chapter! I'm super excited that everyone is liking Anna so far! Let's see how/if she gets out of this little predicament she's found herself in… _

_Also, I'm sorry there's been a lack of Daryl these past few chapters! I want us to get to know Anna a little better because we're following HER journey here. But I promise you'll be seeing our favorite archer very soon!_

* * *

Anna's eyes snapped open, confused and disoriented. She had no idea how much time had passed since she shut her eyes — but as she turned her face up towards the sky, she noticed big, bulbous clouds rolling in, blocking most of the sun.

Anna sat up slowly, grimacing as she licked her chapped lips. All the moisture in her mouth had depleted, leaving her throat raw and achy. She slowly crawled towards the nearest edge of the roof, peeking over the side. The horde hadn't lost interest, still clawing at the sides of the building.

Anna sat back on her heels, squeezing her necklace in the palm of her hand. She could make a run for it — jump down the ten-foot drop and sprint for her truck. Or she could wait it out — the herd was bound to forget she was on the roof eventually, once something else drew its attention.

But then Anna thought of Ben. If her brother was still in Atlanta, he could be in trouble and need her. Sure, the man she'd met yesterday — Daryl, if she remembered correctly — told her Atlanta was destroyed but what the hell did he know? How was she sure she could trust him? What if he was just as twisted as his brother?

Daryl's face suddenly popped into Anna's mind — more specifically, _his eyes_. She thought about how blue they were…how guarded…how they narrowed with distrust as he inspected her. But there was something else there — something _deep_ in his eyes — that she couldn't quite place. And her gut was telling her that he'd been telling the truth.

Anna groaned softly, rubbing her temples in an attempt to chase away a growing headache. She huffed a breath — it didn't matter what Daryl said or if it was even true. She had to see for herself. Maybe Ben had stayed behind and hunkered down in his apartment. Maybe he took off and there were clues as to where he had headed. Regardless, Anna had to see for herself.

Having made a decision, Anna pulled herself to her feet, swaying slightly, ignoring how the world tilted beneath her. She slipped her backpack over her shoulders, cocked her gun, and grabbed the pot she had found. She was going to make a run for it.

She moved towards the back of the roof and spotted her truck just fifty feet from the building. All Anna had to do was find an opening and —

Suddenly, a noise caught her attention.

 _Pop._

 _Pop._

 _Pop._

Anna froze, standing up straight and straining her ears.

 _Pop._

 _Pop._

She could've sworn the sound was coming from the city…it sounded a lot like distant gunfire.

 _Pop._

 _Pop._

 _Pop._

And she wasn't the only one who heard it, because suddenly, a big group of roamers began shuffling away from the building and towards the road, heading in the direction of whatever made that noise. Anna walked to the front of the roof and ducked down, watching a mass of walkers form as they ambled down the road, en route towards the city.

 _Pop._

 _Pop._

It was _definitely_ gunfire. And it was _definitely_ coming from the city. That meant that maybe, _just maybe_ , Atlanta wasn't totally destroyed after all. Maybe there were other survivors. Maybe even her brother…

A new plan quickly formulated in Anna's mind — almost half of the walkers below had staggered away, increasing her chances of making it to her truck. All she had to do was wait on the roof just a little longer and maybe even _more_ of the dead would leave.

She would wait one hour. And then, she'd make her move.

Anna had no way of tracking the time, so instead, she began counting. Because when the world ends, what else was there to do? So she started counting up to sixty in her head, tallying each time she got there on her fingers.

She was at number forty-three for the fifty-sixth time, when she heard the most beautiful sound in the world.

A sharp crack of thunder.

Anna's eyes snapped up towards the sky just as a drop of moisture hit her cheek. With a trembling hand, she scooped the raindrop onto the tip of her finger and brought it to her lips, instant relief washing over that area of dryness.

And then, following a loud rumble of thunder, the skies opened above her.

Anna sprinted to her bag, fumbling for her empty canteen and unscrewing the top, setting it down on the roof. She picked up the cooking pot she'd found in the storage room and inspected the inside for any walker blood, before placing it beside her canteen, watching as a small amount of rainwater began to cultivate.

A delirious sort of giggle pushed its way past Anna's lips as she knelt down, tilting her head towards the sky, allowing the rain to wash over her.

After everything she'd been through, it was about damn time for some good luck.

She opened her mouth, allowing the raindrops to quench her growing thirst, and suddenly felt tears spring to her eyes. Another elated laugh bubbled out of her as she scrubbed at her exposed skin, hoping to wash away some of the grime from her body in the process. When the rain ceased a couple minutes later, Anna deflated.

She remained kneeling for a few more moments, ringing out her soaked hair and rubbing at her face with the excess water, feeling more awake than previously. She crawled over to where she left her canteen and pot, inspecting how much water she'd been able to collect. Her canteen barely filled enough for one sip, but the pot, on the other hand, had gathered enough rainwater to fill _at least_ a quarter of her canteen.

Pots weren't the most _convenient_ weapons, but they sure did come in handy.

Anna sat cross-legged as she carefully poured the water from the pot into the canteen, making sure not a single drop was spilled. She licked the excess water from the sides of the pot, before taking a swig from her canteen, closing her eyes in pure euphoria. It took all her willpower to not take another sip — she needed to ration the little water she had until she got to Atlanta. She quickly screwed the cap back on and shoved it into her pack.

Anna took a deep breath, feeling better now that she had water — plus, she didn't have to waste time scavenging and could head straight for downtown instead. With newfound determination, she slung her pack over her shoulders and surveyed the biter situation below. There were still several walkers scratching at the building, but not nearly as many as before.

"Now or never," Anna grumbled as she swung her leg over the edge.

But suddenly, another distant sound echoed from the city.

 _A car alarm._

Anna faltered as the alarm continued to blare for a couple minutes before the noise began to get louder and louder. It wasn't long before the car sounded as if it was just on the other side of the trees — out of eyeshot, but within earshot. And the walkers heard it too. She watched as the majority of the dead below pushed away from the wall and limped away towards the trees, following the noise.

Anna nearly wept with relief, unable to believe the luck she was having and sent a silent _thank you_ to whoever had been stupid enough to set off a car alarm. Now, all she had to do was distract the remaining biters below. A thought struck her as she turned the cooking pot over in her hand.

She suddenly ran towards the back right corner of the roof, throwing the pot over the edge. It landed on the pavement with a clatter, just loud enough to draw the attention of the lingering dead.

Like she'd said…not convenient weapons, but they came in handy.

Anna jogged back to the left corner, spotting a clear area below. It was only about a ten-foot drop if she jumped…but if she hung first, that'd cut the fall in half. Before she made her move, she reached into the side pocket of her backpack and grabbed her car key, holding it firmly between her teeth.

Then, taking a deep breath, Anna used what little strength she had left to slowly lower herself off the roof, hanging onto the edge with her fingertips, her body now dangling. She craned her neck over her shoulder, making sure the coast was clear, before letting go and falling to the pavement.

Anna dropped with a huff, wincing as her ankle rolled slightly beneath her. A couple of straggling walkers noticed her sudden appearance and took off towards her. Anna grabbed the car key from her mouth, grit her teeth together and forced herself to stand, limping towards her truck as fast as possible.

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," she hissed, the biters not far behind. She finally made it to her truck and yanked open the door, sliding inside and slamming it shut behind her. Anna shoved the key into the ignition, the engine roaring to life just as the walkers ambushed the truck. They reached inside the open window with their rotting hands — but just before they grabbed her, she shoved her foot against the accelerator.

Anna sped out of the parking lot and onto the main road, choosing to drive back the way she came — away from Atlanta — in case she happened to catch up with the herd. Once the gas station faded in the distance, Anna was finally able to take a breath, placing a hand over her racing heart. She was alive _purely_ because of luck — and it was all thanks to whoever fired that gun and broke into that car in Atlanta.

All she could do was hope those survivors made it too.

Anna decided to try her luck on highway 85 — it was a straight shot to the city and only a few extra minutes out of the way. The drive ended up being somewhat enjoyable — the brief storm had cooled off some of the humidity and Anna found herself humming along to an old T.V. commercial she used to love, clearly on a high from her narrow escape. When she approached the main stretch of highway into Atlanta, she slowed, taking in the dismal sight.

The road was clear leading into the city, but the other side — driving _away_ from the city — was filled to the brim with hundreds — maybe even _thousands_ — of abandoned vehicles. Anna felt a shaky breath escape her lips, examining the cars as she drove by. Some were covered in streaks of blood, others with dirt and filth. Some had car doors that were still strewn open as if the occupants had left in a haste, others had broken windows and windshields. It looked like a scene out of a movie.

Anna wondered what happened to the people who owned these cars — if they were alive or dead, or maybe one of the walking dead. She turned her gaze towards the growing skyline, examining the decimated buildings as she drove closer. She couldn't help but feel a pinprick of worry hit her — the city was abandoned, that was for sure. But it was deathly quiet. Not a gust of wind or a flap of a birds wings. It was _silent_.

Not wanting her truck's rumble to attract any attention towards her, Anna decided to park right outside the city and walk the remaining distance. She found a railroad that was about a mile away from her brother's apartment and figured it was as good as any to park her truck. She rolled to a stop below a bridge and shut off the ignition, scanning the area as she hopped out.

Anna was surprised at how empty the streets were. Sure, she wasn't expecting other survivors to just be moseying around, but not even a single biter could be found. It was as if every living thing had suddenly disappeared from the face of the Earth — and it sent a chill through Anna's bones.

"Please be here, Ben," Anna whispered aloud, grunting as she hefted her backpack over her shoulders and began walking. She kept her gun tight in her grip at all times, praying she wouldn't have to use it, but also not wanting to be caught without it.

The streets were covered with assorted debris, smears of blood lined the sidewalks, streetlights were knocked over, some laying atop of more abandoned cars. Anna had only been to Atlanta a couple times, enough to have a vague sense of where she was headed. But without the usual buzz of commuters, heavy traffic, and bustling sidewalks, the streets were beginning to blend together.

The entire trek, Anna kept expecting to turn a corner and bump into a giant herd — or at least a large cluster of the dead. But as she traveled deeper into the city, she began to realize that she was utterly and completely _alone_.

Anna wiped away the sweat forming on her forehead, suddenly spotting her brother's street ahead. A burst of hope shot through her as she began jogging the rest of the way, keeping her footsteps light. She turned onto the street, scanning the area briefly for the dead, but when all remained clear, she continued running. She located the five-story building halfway down the block, and her jog turned into a full-blown sprint.

Her breaths came out in huffs as her bones groaned in protest, but she forced herself to keep running, pushing past any aches, the desire to _finally_ reach her destination overriding any pain. Anna slowed as she came to a stop in front of the building, heart pounding against her chest from the exertion and the fear of what she was about to walk into.

Anna took a breath, adjusting her grip on her pistol, and walked through the already opened entrance.

The lobby was small and barren — most likely due to looters, she figured. It was covered in dust and grime, but there was surprisingly no dead bodies or roaming biters — there wasn't even a blood splatter, from what she could see.

Anna spotted the stairway at the end of the lobby and hurried towards it, the door creaking as she pushed it open. She began climbing the stairs, hating how quickly she became winded — but she pushed past the discomfort and forced her legs to carry her to the third floor, where she knew Ben's apartment was.

The door to the third level came into view and Anna nearly wept with relief — _she made it_. After weeks of traveling, losing her parents during the journey, practically losing herself…she had _finally_ made it here. She shoved the door open and slid into the hallway — stopping immediately in her tracks.

Unlike the lobby, the third-floor hallway was… _gruesome_.

Anna gagged at the stench that immediately hit her, like rotting flesh mixed with molding garbage. She buried her nose into the crook of her elbow, ignoring how her eyes began to water. And the walls…the pale yellow walls were coated in red liquid, streaks of blood that had dried were smeared over the wallpaper and along the carpet. Flies buzzed around the narrow hall, searching for something foul to land on.

Anna swallowed the lump growing in her throat as she slowly walked to Ben's door. Her gut was telling her to turn back, that she wasn't going to find what she was looking for here. But she _couldn't_. Not after everything she had gone through to get here. She had to see for herself.

Steeling herself for whatever she was about to walk into, Anna pushed open her brother's front door, taking notice that it had already been busted in. She took a step inside, closing the door shut behind her softly.

To her surprise, Ben's apartment looked practically untouched — there were a few open drawers, some scattered paper and clothing, and a smell that told her that the garbage hadn't been taken out in far too long. But other than that, it looked relatively _normal_.

Anna took a breath, feeling her eyes well up with tears. There was no way her brother was here. She felt it in her heart. But still, she couldn't help herself. "Ben?" she called out softly, her voice breaking as she stood rooted by his front door.

She squeezed her eyes shut at the deafening silence that followed her call, refusing to accept the reality of her brother's absence. But just as she was about to call out his name again, she heard something.

 _Thud._

It was faint, but it was there, and her eyes snapped open. "Ben?" she called again, a little louder as she walked further into his apartment, trying to locate the sound.

 _Thud._

Anna spun around, her eyes zeroing in on the closed bathroom door across the room. She slowly approached the door, spotting a shadow along the bottom crack of the doorway, her heart speeding up as she pressed her ear against the door.

"Ben?" she whispered, straining her hearing.

And then, Anna felt her heart shatter into dust as a low, guttural, hungry growl sounded from the other side of the door.

* * *

 _ **A/** N : Who's behind the bathroom door? Where does she go from here? And who were the strangers that inadvertently helped her escape the mini-mart rooftop?_

 _ **QUESTION OF THE WEEK:** What would be the first thing you'd do if the zombie apocalypse happened in real life? Would you gather supplies? Find shelter? Search for your family? Share your thoughts!_


	7. Chapter 7

_**Author's Note** : Here we go! Anna is finally going to get some answers!_

* * *

Every ounce of hope inside Anna escaped her lungs in one breath.

She pressed her forehead against the creaking bathroom door, feeling the rotted limbs on the other side pounding against the wood, its groans growing louder. But Anna couldn't seem to move from the spot she'd frozen in — afraid that once she opened the door, she'd come face to face with her greatest fear… _losing her brother_.

"No," Anna whispered, pushing away from the door. "No, no, no, no," she mumbled, storming towards the small kitchen on the opposite side of the room. _It can't be him. It just can't be,_ Anna told herself, frantically yanking open each and every drawer, searching for some sort of weapon. She jerked open the cabinet below the sink and spotted a small toolbox. Hefting it onto the counter, she unlatched the top.

The first tool she spotted was a hammer. She grabbed the handle, testing the weight in the palm of her hand, before spinning around and marching back to the bathroom — the walker behind the door becoming more and more frenzied from the racket she'd made.

Anna grabbed the doorknob and paused. What if it _was_ Ben behind the door? What if all of this had been for _nothing_? Would she really be able to 'put down' her own brother? She didn't think she'd ever come back from that.

Anna gnashed her teeth together, pushing away her tormented thoughts, and twisted the knob.

Once the door opened a crack, she took several steps backward, waiting for the walker to wiggle out on its own. The walker stumbled out of the bathroom, its sights zeroing in on Anna. She kept herself at a safe distance, narrowing her eyes, raising her hammer — it was hard to tell if it was Ben or not, due to its decaying flesh and drooping skin. She could tell it was male — or at least _used_ to be — but other than that, the features were unrecognizable.

Anna jumped back as the walker swiped at her. "C'mon, damn it!" she shouted, growing more and more frustrated. She dodged another swing, watching as the walker fell off balance from its own momentum.

Seeing her opportunity, Anna grabbed the biter by the throat, using her foot to kick its kneecap in backward. The walker dropped to its knees before Anna tackled it to the ground, keeping one hand firmly against its throat, forcing it to lay on its back. As the dead snarled beneath her, she maneuvered her body so that she straddled over its middle, using her feet to keep its hands pinned down. Still, Anna found it too difficult to distinguish who it was on top of its vicious writhing.

She was starting to lose her grip when suddenly, she spotted something on the side of its neck — _a_ _tattoo_.

The ink was sagging, bits of ripped flesh tearing across the thick, black marking, but it was a tattoo, no doubt about it.

 _And Ben didn't have a neck tattoo_.

Anna nearly sobbed with relief at the realization that this monster was _not_ her brother. Raising her arm high about her head, she slammed the claw of the hammer down into the forehead of the biter, its movements stilling immediately. She stumbled away from the body, placing her hands on her knees as she took deep breaths.

It was a bittersweet moment for Anna. She was so thankful that the walker wasn't Ben, meaning her brother might very well still be alive out there. But, if he wasn't here in his apartment… _where was he?_

A fresh bout of frustrated tears sprung to Anna's eyes as she kicked away from the wall, beginning to pace the length of the apartment. Her eyes fell on the walker she'd taken down, a course of anger rushing through her veins.

With a huff, Anna grabbed the walker by the ankles and began dragging the body along the hardwood floors. She managed to maneuver it through the front door and out into the hallway, the horrible stench from before as strong as ever. Before she made her way back inside, Anna grabbed the handle of her hammer, yanking at it roughly — but the claw remained embedded in the biter's skull. She tugged even harder, losing her balance once the claw snapped free — she noted the difficulty of removing the claw and reminded herself that she'd have to use the head next time.

Anna slid back into Ben's apartment, desperately needing to escape the repulsive smells in the hall, and slammed the door shut. But as she closed the door, her eyes suddenly landed on something she hadn't seen when she first walked in…a note taped to the back of the door.

Anna recognized the illegible scrawl of her brother's handwriting and inhaled shakily, pulling the note off the door. She took a moment to trace her fingers over the outline of his words, moving to sit down at the kitchen table. Biting her lip anxiously, she began reading.

 _A,_

 _The military's evacuating the city. If you're reading this, that means you guys made it to Atlanta… god, I hope you're reading this. It's not safe here. Not anymore._ _I'm okay, sis. I'll stay as long as I can. But if you find this note, I left for the Fort Benning_ _refugee center. Some people are saying it's already been overrun by whatever the fuck's happening out there — but I don't know_ _where else to go. So I'm gonna try for Benning — I'll wait there for you. Take care of mom and dad. Please be safe, Annie. Please be okay._

 _I love you, sis._

 _\- B_

Anna reread the letter over and over, tracing over his scribbled words, most likely written in a rush. She tried to ignore the streak of blood on the bottom left-hand corner and the way his handwriting seemed to get more and more distorted as the sentences went on. She read the letter until the lines blurred together, until she could've recited it word for word by heart.

 _Take care of mom and dad._ A pang of guilt coursed through Anna — Ben didn't know about what happened to their parents. For all he knew, the rest of his family was alive and well and searching for him at this very moment. If only he knew the brutality of their deaths…if only he had seen it firsthand as Anna had…the graphic images forever burned into her memory...

 _I'm gonna try for Benning — I'll wait there for you._ Anna had barely made it to Atlanta alive…how the hell was she supposed to get to Fort Benning with limited supplies, no backup, and a deteriorating truck? What if the refugee center no longer existed? Before the broadcasts shut off, the voice on the radio had been directing any survivors to head for Atlanta — and look how that turned out. If Ben had started the trek to Fort Benning and found out it'd been destroyed, that meant he could be _anywhere_. If he was even still _alive_ , for that matter…

Anna glanced up from the paper, suddenly noticing that dusk had begun to envelop the room. She stood up and headed towards the open window, leaning out and peering down below — a few lone walkers had ambled into view, mindlessly roaming the empty streets. She wasn't about to venture through the city at night, so she decided staying in her brother's apartment was the smartest move.

Anna made quick work of securing the place, locking the front door and pushing the couch up against it for good measure. There was no balcony or fire escape outside the windows, so she left them open, allowing some fresh air to enter the space. She inspected the rest of the apartment, checking closets and other nooks and crannies for any hidden walkers or unwanted guests.

Once the place was fortified, Anna used the last remaining moments of light to search the kitchen for any nonperishable goods or water that'd been left behind. She opened the doors to the refrigerator and was immediately hit with the putrid smell of rotted food. Burying her nose in her arm, she pushed aside old cartons of Chinese food, spoiled milk and produce, searching for anything that hadn't expired already.

When the fridge came up empty, Anna began searching the cabinets. She had more luck in the pantry, coming across half a sleeve of saltines, a can of black beans, and a jar of olives. A smile spread across her face as she thought of the wonderful spread of food she'd have for dinner that night.

A memory struck Anna and on a whim, she decided to check the freezer before she called it quits — and boy oh boy, was she glad she did. It was inside the freezer that she found two lukewarm unopened bottles of water. An incredulous laugh escaped her lips as she grabbed the bottles, turning them over in her hands.

Summers in the south had been unbearable. Anna recalled on most of those hot, sunny days, Ben would stash water bottles in the freezer. When Anna would question him, he'd say _'Long, hot days call for ice, cold water.'_ Anna would roll her eyes but accept an icy beverage anyways. Today, she couldn't be more grateful about old habits dying hard. "Thank you, Ben," she murmured aloud, feeling some weight lift off her chest.

The night passed quickly — Anna was able to put together a small plate for dinner, munching on her meager meal at the kitchen table. She filled her canteen with one of the water bottles, shoving the extra one in her backpack. Afterward, she peeled off her dirty, sweat-soaked clothing and slipped into one of Ben's old t-shirts that he'd left behind, before crawling into bed.

She curled up beneath the sheets, keeping her gun tucked under the pillow, feeling the day's events finally catching up to her. Her body felt heavy — limbs tired, stomach aching, growling for more food than she was able to provide. But she was hydrated and she was warm and she was alive — she was _okay_.

Anna wasn't surprised when the nightmares came — they _always_ did. But when she woke up with her heart racing, she grabbed the collar of her t-shirt and brought it up to her nose. It smelled vaguely like Ben, a little musty from sitting in his drawer for so long, but the scent was still there. And she felt her nerves calm.

When morning came, Anna laid in bed for a while. She was still exhausted, but it didn't affect her as much anymore — it was just an aspect of who she was now. She sighed, running her hand through her knotted hair, struggling to formulate a new plan of action.

Since Ben wasn't in Atlanta, she had no purpose being there — sure, she hadn't run into many walkers when she arrived, but there had to be a herd somewhere in the city. Downtown Atlanta was not safe anymore — Ben had said so in his note. Her only other option was Fort Benning.

It was about a one hundred mile trek from the city if she recalled correctly. Ben may or may not be there…the base may or may not still be running…but what other choice did she have? She had to at least _try_ — she had to see for herself. That seemed to be her mantra these days.

Anna knew her pickup truck was on its way out, so she figured she'd drive as far as it would take her, and then she'd walk the rest of the way — unless she stumbled upon another vehicle, which would be incredibly helpful.

As for supplies, she had enough to last her a couple days — and she could always scavenge for more if needed. She could take care of herself. She could do this.

Feeling confident, Anna mustered the strength to get out of bed and changed into her extra set of clothes, preparing for the road ahead. After getting ready, Anna packed up her backpack and headed for the door, pushing the couch out of the way, but pausing before she reached for the knob. She turned back around, taking one last look around the apartment, an echo of sadness washing over her. Right before she turned to leave, she spotted an old frame with a picture of her and Ben hung on the wall.

Anna grabbed the frame, popping open the back and slipping the photo out from behind the glass. She ran her fingers over the glossy picture — her and Ben smiling wide, arms wrapped around one another's shoulders, nearly doubled over with laughter. Ben had made some smart-ass joke before the picture had been taken — she couldn't remember what he said, all she could remember was the ache it brought to her belly from laughing so hard.

She sighed softly, swinging her backpack off her shoulders. She slipped the photo into the side pocket of her pack, alongside the note Ben had left for her to find. Then, after her gaze swept the room one final time, she made her leave.

Anna decided to take advantage of the apartment complex and spent the entire day scavenging supplies for the road. She worked through each floor, each room, one by one. Opting to use her newly acquired hammer instead of wasting her limited bullets, Anna took down any stray walkers trapped inside the rooms. She fell into a sort of rhythm — open the door, kill the dead, search the home. She only kept items she _really_ needed, her backpack already incredibly heavy, straining her shoulders — but she soldiered on.

By the end of her hunt, she left the building with two more water bottles, a box of matches, a couple cans of tuna, and a stick of deodorant. It may not have seemed like much, but it was all she could fit in her pack and all things she desperately needed. Anna even found a pair of combat boots, just her size, and decided to get rid of her old, broken-down sneakers. Her body was tired and sweaty from a hard days work, but she left the complex feeling satisfied with her finds.

All she had to do now was navigate her way back to her truck. Anna crept out of the complex, scanning the street for any threats — at the opposite end of the block, a small group of biters had formed, but they were far enough away that she could escape without notice. With her hammer gripped tightly in her hand, she jogged through the streets of Atlanta, keeping her footsteps light and her senses on high alert. At one point, she was forced to cut through an alleyway due to a blockade of the dead, but she luckily remained unnoticed.

Anna had to slow to a walking pace at one point, the weight of her full backpack leaving her breathless, as she neared the end of her mile run out of the city. She suddenly recognized the location and knew her truck was only a couple blocks away, parked right beneath the bridge ahead. The sun was beginning to dim, late afternoon settling over the city. She hadn't realized how much time had passed during her day-long supply hunt, but she was glad she took the time to scavenge — it would come in handy later.

Anna had never been so relieved to see her pickup finally come into view — her legs felt like jello, her shoulders spasming in pain as she adjusted the straps of her pack.

But as she got closer to her truck, her blood suddenly ran cold when she realized she wasn't alone anymore.

A soft hiss escaped her lips as she ducked behind an abandoned car, peering over the hood at the strangers surrounding her truck. She was too far away to hear what they were saying, but she saw three of them — one African American man on his back beneath the steering wheel, looking as though he was trying to hotwire her truck. One younger looking Asian man wearing a baseball cap, who paced nervously back and forth. And one middle-aged man with some sort of sheriff's hat, sporting a duffle bag _filled_ with guns.

Anna couldn't hear what they were saying, but they looked as though they were in the middle of a tense conversation. She crept forward once the coast was clear, hiding behind one of the bridge's pillars, their voices now carrying.

"— make it back before dark. It's only a few miles, we can just —"

"Almost got it, alright? Jus' gimme a second," the man working on the car snapped.

"He could be back at camp already! We need to go _now_ ," the younger Asian boy shot back, adjusting his grip on his rifle.

"An' we'll get there a lot faster with a vehicle," the sheriff interjected calmly, but Anna could tell by the way he fidgeted, he was anxious.

"Jus' one more minute, alright?" the man grunted, pulling wires out from beneath the wheel.

Anna felt her heart begin to speed up and before she could think twice, she shoved her hammer into her backpack and grabbed her gun instead. "Hey!" she shouted, jumping out from behind the pillar, aiming her gun towards the men.

The men looked startled at her sudden appearance, their attention snapping towards her as she took a step closer, praying they couldn't see her grip wavering. The Asian boy lifted his rifle, aiming it at Anna, but looked more confused than intimidating.

"Hey, easy!" the sheriff snapped, pointing a finger at the boy. "Put it down, Glenn," he urged, training his eyes back on Anna. "Let's jus' take it easy, alright?" he addressed her directly this time.

"Get the hell away from my truck," she demanded through clenched teeth, tightening her grip around her pistol.

"Okay, okay," the sheriff nodded, motioning towards the man inside the truck. "C'mon, T-Dog, you heard the lady." The man named T-Dog seemed reluctant to move but eventually went to stand beside Glenn, his fingers twitching at his side. "Our apologies, ma'am," the sheriff continued. "We didn't know the truck belonged to anyone."

Anna narrowed her eyes — what the hell kind of game were these men playing? "Back up," she ordered.

The sheriff nodded, directing his group to follow his lead. "Why don't you lower your weapon, okay? Don't need anyone gettin' hurt out here, right?" he spoke calmly and Anna could totally picture the man being a cop before the end of the world. "My name's Rick Grimes," he offered, placing a hand on his chest earnestly.

"Look, I'm just trying to get out of the city," Anna shot back, taking a step closer to her truck, wanting this encounter to be over and done with. She didn't trust other survivors — _ever_.

"I understand that. We're jus' tryin' to get back to our camp, is all," Rick responded, his words genuine and Anna found herself slowly lowering her gun — something in her gut telling her this man wasn't one of the bad ones.

But then suddenly, the three men were no longer looking _at her_ …they were looking _behind her._

Anna's stomach dropped as she spun around, simultaneously raising her gun, coming face to face with… _a crossbow._ Chest heaving, her eyes landed on the person holding the weapon and her stomach _dropped_.

It was the man from the road — the man who saved her life.

Except for this time, he wasn't looking at her with guarded eyes, curiously inquiring about her life, offering her shelter and safety.

This time, his expression was cold and calculating, unflinching as his finger twitched towards the trigger.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Ben's fate is still unknown...Anna's stumbled across a new group of survivors...and the archer has made a sudden reappearance. Things are JUST getting started here._

 _ **QUESTION OF THE WEEK:** Most characters in the show have a staple weapon they use (ie. Daryl's crossbow, Michonne's katana, Negan's baseball bat...) What would be your weapon of choice during the zombie apocalypse?_


	8. Chapter 8

_**Author's Note** : I just wanted to say a quick thank you to everyone who comments on these chapters! I love interacting with you babes and it makes me so incredibly happy to hear your thoughts and feelings about each chapter! It makes this whole thing totally worth it. If you've been hesitant to reach out, don't be shy! We're all family here! (Obviously, thank you to EVERYONE who reads, even if you're just one of my ghost readers - I appreciate ALL OF YOU.)_

* * *

Time seemed to stand still as Anna stood toe to toe with the archer, each training their weapons on the other, both refusing to back down.

"Daryl, enough!" she heard Rick call from behind her, but the archer simply narrowed his eyes.

Anna couldn't comprehend the character shift she was witnessing from the man in front of her. Just two days ago, he was willing to go up against his own brother for her sake. He'd saved her life, fixed her truck _and_ _on top of all that_ , offered her a place in his group. What the hell could've happened since then to manifest this hostility?

She'd clearly been wrong about the archer — she'd believed he was a decent man, most likely one of the only ones left on Earth. But she was wrong. He was just like everyone else — dangerous, cruel and out for themselves.

Whatever was going on with him, Anna wasn't going to play into it. She huffed a breath when Daryl _still_ refused to stand down, slowly lowering her weapon, standing with her arms out at her sides. "Go ahead," she challenged. "Finish what your brother couldn't," she leveled coldly, watching a flash of something flicker through Daryl's eyes.

She heard footsteps rapidly approach and then the sheriff was standing beside them, looking impatient as he held a hand out towards Daryl. "I said _enough_ , Daryl," Rick stated lowly, giving him a stern look.

Daryl finally pulled his eyes away from hers, shooting the sheriff a nasty look. "Who the hell died an' made _you_ head honcho, huh?" the archer spat. But still, he lowered his crossbow.

"Come on, you guys," Glenn suddenly urged, a desperation to his voice. "We've got bigger issues here."

"The kid's right," T-Dog interjected, taking a step closer. "We need ta' get movin'. It's already gettin' dark."

"This is y'all's fault ta' begin with, ya know," Daryl shot back, pushing past Anna without a second glance. "If y'all hadn't left him on the roof like some kinda god damn _animal_ , this could'a been avoided," he snapped, beginning to pace back and forth

Anna turned on her heel, confusion spreading over her face, a million questions racing through her mind. But she didn't say anything — it wasn't her place and all she really wanted to do was get the hell out of the city.

"Merle was _out of control_ , Daryl. He was —"

"Ta' hell with all y'all!" Daryl growled, cutting Glenn off, waving his hand around angrily.

"It doesn't matter anymore. He's probably headed back to camp right now — we need to _go,_ " Glenn continued, ignoring the archer's outburst.

"Well, c'mon then!" Daryl commanded, slinging his crossbow over his shoulder and storming away. Glenn and T-Dog looked between Anna and Rick with uncertainty, before taking a couple steps back, motioning for the sheriff to follow.

Anna fully expected the sheriff to take off — but when he remained steadfast, she glanced up at him, surprised to see that his eyes were trained on her. "You gonna be alright?" Rick suddenly asked, a hint of worry in his gaze.

"Huh?" Anna retorted, puzzled. She had met a lot of people after the world ended — but she had never met a man like Rick Grimes. "What? Yeah. Yeah, I'll be fine," she shook off, her eyes wary as she tried to figure out his angle here — and more importantly, why he gave a shit about whether or not she would be 'alright'.

"C'mon, Rick! Ain't got time ta' sit 'round the campfire singin' kumbaya!" Daryl snapped, becoming more and more agitated from ahead.

Anna shot the archer a dark look, her hands balling into fists at her sides. Daryl leveled her stare icily. She tore her gaze from his, pushing down whatever insult she was about to hurl at him. Rick gave her an apologetic look as he ran a hand over his face. "Take care a' yourself, alright?" he murmured, Anna nodding slowly in return.

Then, with nothing more left to say, he started jogging towards the other men.

Anna's eyes trailed back over to the archer, who was watching her intently as she began making her way towards her truck. She yanked the door open as Rick met up with the others, the tail end of an argument between the archer and sheriff floating through the air.

"— not right to jus' leave her like that."

"Ain't our damn responsibility!"

"It wasn't _right_."

"Oh, so _now_ ya'll got some kinda damn moral compass? What 'bout my brother?"

" _Listen to me_ — if Merle goes back to camp an' pulls anythin', I mean _anythin'_ —"

"Lemme handle my brother, alright?"

"That is _my wife_ an' _my son_ there. If _anything_ happens —"

That was the last thing Anna heard as she watched the four men begin jogging down the railroad track, their voices fading the farther they got.

Anna pulled herself into her truck, tossing her backpack onto the passenger seat, and exhaled heavily. It was hard for her to comprehend what just happened — between the hostility from Daryl, the unwarranted kindness from Rick, and hearing the vague details about some incident involving Merle, it was a lot to process. A shiver wracked through her at the thought of Merle and their previous encounter, her fingers absently grazing the cut on her throat.

Anna pushed away the unsettling memory and started the truck, her eyes unwillingly trailing back towards the four men getting smaller and smaller in the distance. She took a breath, ready to start her trek to Fort Benning, but something stopped her.

She tried to ignore the nagging sensation in her heart, the inexplicable _pull_ she felt towards the men she'd come across. But no matter how much she rationalized things — the journey ahead, the desire to find her brother, the fact that the men were complete _strangers_ to her — there was one small fact that kept her from driving off and never looking back — and that was _Daryl._

Becauseregardless of his sudden shift in behavior and whether she liked to admit it or not…he had saved her life. And the fact of the matter was that _she owed him_.

Anna groaned, squeezing her eyes shut. "Shit," she mumbled, kicking herself for what she was about to do. Then, she put her truck into drive and started speeding off in the direction she'd seen the men last.

Anna caught up to the group only a few minutes later, impressed by the amount of distance they'd covered in such a short amount of time. Then before she could stop herself, she leaned her head out of the open window. "Hey!" she called out, the men stopping dead in their tracks, regarding her cautiously, all four out of breath. She sighed, her features softening. "Want a ride?"

The men shot each other wary looks before Rick ultimately stepped forward. "We couldn't ask —"

"You're not asking. I'm offering," Anna interjected, motioning them forward with her hand. "C'mon, I'll give you a ride back to your camp."

Rick made the first move forward, Glenn and T-Dog following in suit. Anna locked eyes with Daryl, who clenched and unclenched his jaw, before storming towards the bed of the truck and jumping in. The sheriff slid into the passenger seat, placing Anna's backpack in the back seat as Glenn and T-Dog joined Daryl in the cargo area. "Thank you," Rick spoke once he slammed the door shut. "You didn't have ta' do this."

"I know," Anna nodded, shooting the archer a look through her rearview mirror. "But I owe the prick back there a favor," she grumbled, not needing to clarify who she was talking about.

Rick just nodded, pointing out which road ahead to turn on.

Anna began driving, flipping on her headlights as the sun began to fade. Her mind raced a mile a minute, demanding for her to explain just what in the hell had gotten into her. She had avoided other survivors at all costs, people time and time again proving just how cruel the human race could be. She worked well alone, solitude agreeing with her for the most part — sure, it was a lonely existence, but it was _safe_. She had survived thus far and had to attribute that towards her decision to be on her own.

But here she was, hauling four strangers to _god knows where_. How did she know there was even a camp? How did she know this wasn't just a ploy to ambush her? To steal her things? Maybe even worse?

But as she glanced at Rick from the corner of her eye and at Daryl, Glenn, and T-Dog through her rearview mirror, she felt _nothing_. No hint of worry, no subtle nudge of discomfort, no feeling in her gut telling her to ditch them and run — even after her not-so-friendly reunion with Daryl.

Maybe it was because deep down, Anna's will to survive was slowly dwindling. Maybe she'd finally reached that point of acceptance where she just _truly_ didn't care about what happened to her anymore.

Or maybe, _just maybe_ , she'd finally encountered a group of incredibly _decent_ survivors.

"I'm sorry, I never got your name," Rick suddenly spoke, cutting off Anna's thoughts.

"Oh," she murmured, clearing her throat slightly. "Anna Brooks," she spoke, shooting Rick a small smile.

"Well then, on behalf of the prick back there," Rick sighed, jerking his head towards the bed of the truck, "thank you, Anna Brooks."

Anna scoffed lightly and nodded once, turning on the road the sheriff had pointed out.

"How'd you know Daryl?" he inquired, his fingers tapping incessantly against his pant leg. He seemed anxious, maybe deciding small talk would take his mind off the apparent trouble at his camp. Anna pressed just a little harder on the accelerator, wanting to get them home sooner.

She paused, unsure of how to go about his question. "My, uh, my truck broke down a few days ago. He kinda appeared out of nowhere and got it running again," she shrugged, deciding not to delve into the full story.

Rick nodded silently, his eyes scanning the road warily. "An' what brought — turn up here — what brought ya to the city?" he questioned, directing her down another winding road.

Anna followed his directions, gnawing on her bottom lip for a moment. "Uh, the broadcasts, actually. Before they shut off, I mean. They said there was a refugee center downtown and all that," she explained, narrowing her eyes as she maneuvered the darkened side street. "My brother was supposed to be there," she finished quietly.

Rick was silent for a moment and Anna took that as her opportunity to flip the question.

"What about you?" she asked, her eyes flickering up to the rearview mirror to check on the others. She noticed Daryl staring off towards the passing trees, his expression troubled — but when his gaze flashed her way, a stoniness settled over his features and she quickly looked away.

Rick was quiet again. "We had an issue with a member of our group yesterday — had ta' leave him behind, otherwise none of us would'a made it out. Went back today ta' get him an' he was gone," he sighed, his words laced with guilt.

Anna knew he was talking about Merle and had a certain inkling as to why he was left behind — the man was _dangerous,_ plain and simple. He was a reckless junkie who gave zero shits about everyone and everything.

She figured that must've been one of the reasons behind Daryl's sudden shift in character — he was pissed at his group for leaving Merle behind. And then on top of that, after making the trek into the city to bring him back, had discovered that he'd apparently taken off. But Anna was sure that deep down, underneath all that animosity, Daryl was really just _worried_ about his missing brother — and she could relate.

"You did what you had to do," Anna murmured simply, shrugging a shoulder up.

Rick scoffed lightly, shaking his head. "Explain that ta' Daryl Dixon back there," he muttered heavily.

Anna opened her mouth to respond, but a strange noise suddenly sounded.

 _Pop._

 _Pop._

"Is that the engine?" Rick questioned, shifting in his seat as Anna slowed her truck, the brakes groaning in protest. A heavy silence settled over the cab, both Anna and the sheriff straining their ears through the open windows for where the noise had come from. And then suddenly, it sounded again.

 _Pop._

 _Pop._

 _Pop._

But it wasn't coming from the truck — it wasn't even the _engine_.

It was _gunshots_.

A stream of incessant _pops_ began echoing throughout the night as Daryl jumped to his feet and banged his fist on top of the truck. "Hey, it's comin' from camp!" he hollered.

Rick let out a shaky breath, his knuckles turning white as he clenched his fists. "Drive," he uttered in horror, his voice trembling as Anna immediately slammed her foot onto the accelerator, the truck lurching forward.

Her heart pounded against her ribcage as she pushed her truck as fast as it would go, winding up a steep dirt road, covered in nothing but darkness. Rick was murmuring something under his breath — almost like a prayer of some sorts — as he reached into the bag strapped across his chest. He began pulling out several different types of guns — rifles, handguns, shotguns, pistols — making sure they were all loaded as he directed Anna down another dark path.

Anna gripped the steering wheel tightly, feeling her palms begin to sweat against the leather. "C'mon, baby," she murmured under her breath, praying her truck had enough left in it to make it up the steep hill it was climbing. The gunshots started getting louder and louder, alerting the group that they were close. It wasn't long before a large RV suddenly came into view, a small fire dwindling in the middle of an open area.

Anna narrowed her eyes, scanning the field for movement — and that's when she saw them.

Walkers. Waves upon waves of the dead filtering in from the trees, circling around a small group of people, only visible by gunfire.

Anna skidded her truck into the campsite, slamming onto the breaks as Rick's door flew open, a desperate shout escaping his lungs as he ran towards the others. "Lori! Carl!" he screamed, firing at a nearby walker. Daryl, T-Dog, and Glenn had already jumped out from the back and were taking down every single biter in their path.

Anna didn't think — she just _moved_. She put her truck into park and leapt out of the front seat, grabbing her pistol and joining the fight. Her five remaining bullets ended up in the brains of five dead ones before she was forced to switch over to her hammer.

It seemed like for each walker she killed, two more took its place. The camp was filled with deafening gunfire and screams, but Anna tuned it all out, focusing solely on each biter that came into view. Chest heaving, she slammed her hammer against the temple of one of the dead, before quickly searching the campsite — there was a group of survivors backing up towards the RV, huddles of walkers feasting on fresh kills, and a graveyard full of dead biters.

Some of the people armed with guns had spread out along the trees, moving closer into the herd. Anna took a couple steps back, wiping away a streak of blood spatter from her face. She turned once more to look at the group huddled near the RV and suddenly spotted a boy.

He was young — probably eleven or twelve years old — with big fearful eyes, holding onto the back of a dark-haired woman's shirt — who she assumed was his mother. But what he didn't see was the biter who'd strayed from the herd and was now rapidly approaching him from behind…

"Hey, kid!" Anna shouted, trying to get the attention of the boy or the mother. But over the roar of gunfire, her cries fell on deaf ears. "Kid!" she screamed desperately, taking off towards the boy, just as the walker reached for him with its blood-stained fingers.

Anna threw herself at the biter, tackling it to the ground in one swift motion. All of the air from her lungs escaped in one big _whoosh_ as she hit the dirt floor, feeling the skin on her left palm split open as she skidded against a perturbing rock. She hissed in pain as she wrestled against the walker, fumbling for the hammer she'd dropped on impact. Anna quickly flipped onto her stomach, spotting the weapon just ahead, and desperately reached for it.

But a cry escaped her lips as she felt a heaviness slam into her back, bony hands twisting into her hair and yanking her head backward. She wriggled beneath the walker's weight, grappling to free herself from its clutches, but the biter simply pulled her head farther back. A hungry growl sounded against her ear as its hot breath spilled across her throat, teeth snapping just inches from her flesh.

This was it. This was how it ended for her. She couldn't say she was surprised — she'd figured if she didn't take her own life, the dead would. An odd feeling of peace spread through her as time slowed for a fraction of a second, Anna's gaze lifting towards the starry night sky. A shaky breath escaped her lips as she squeezed her eyes shut, welcoming death with warm, open arms…ready to be reunited with her family once more…

But the pain never came.

Instead, the body on top of her stilled, its full weight pressing against her. Anna's brow furrowed as she twisted her body out from beneath the dead, grunting from the exertion until she was freed. She took a deep breath, quickly scooting backward through the dirt before she stilled, noticing something she hadn't before.

An arrow shot clean through its temple.

Anna faltered, searching through the darkness until her eyes landed on the man she knew it belonged to — and there stood Daryl on the opposite side of the camp, crossbow in hand, gaze locked on hers, a slightly wild look in his eyes.

Then the gunfire ceased, the campsite eerily quiet, the only sounds coming from soft cries of grieving survivors who'd lost loved ones.

Anna tore her gaze away from Daryl's, cradling the hand she'd cut open against her chest as she collapsed backward, laying flat against the soil. She exhaled a shaky breath, heart hammering against her chest, eyes wandering the glistening night sky.

And she wondered silently to herself… _just what in the hell had she gotten herself into._

* * *

 _ **A/N** : Anna has officially met the group…not in the most ideal circumstances, of course. Where do you think she'll go from here?! Will the group accept her? Will she choose to continue on to Fort Benning? We'll find out soon!_

 _ **QUESTION OF THE WEEK** : If you had to go on an extremely risky supply run, which three TWD characters would you choose to take with you and why?_


	9. Chapter 9

_Author's Note :_ _As usual, thanks for all the love! Hope you guys are enjoying this story!_

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No one slept that night.

The survivors worked from dusk until dawn, sifting through the decimated camp, dividing the dead walkers from their dead friends and placing them into separate growing piles. They worked in silence, the grief settling over the camp nearly tangible.

Anna stuck around to help clean up the aftermath — she'd felt like it would've been disrespectful _not_ to. She had no ties to these people, dead or alive, but just because the human race was destroyed, that didn't mean humanity had to fade along with it. No one questioned her presence either — she received some curious looks, but she just kept her head ducked down and focused on whatever task she was dealing with.

Her heart felt heavy, the gruesome images from the attack seared into her brain. She'd seen so much death and destruction since the world ended, it was all starting to blend into one, long, never-ending nightmare.

The morning became just as grim — it'd been brought to light that one of the survivors, Jim, had been bit while helping take down the herd the night before. His fever was already starting to take over, hallucinations bending the cusp of reality, and Anna knew it wouldn't be long until he turned — she'd seen it happen before. There was no coming back from a bite.

Anna took a break from dragging yet another biter to the growing fire, the group having decided to burn the dead and bury their own. Stretching out her sore muscles, she arched her back, relishing in the brief moment of relief it brought. She tightened the cloth wrapped around her torn palm — she'd ripped off a strip of her flannel, using it as a makeshift bandage around the hand she'd cut open tackling that final walker.

She peeked under the cloth, inspecting the angry red slash mark, picking at the dried blood caked around the wound. Gritting her teeth together, Anna pushed away any discomfort and reached down to grab the ankles of the walker below her, continuing her trek to the fire.

"Need a hand?" came a soft voice from behind.

Anna craned her neck, spotting the mother of the boy she'd saved standing in her path. "Uh…yeah, sure," Anna nodded, voice rasping from being unused.

The woman quietly walked over to stand opposite of Anna, bending down to hoist the biter up from its armpits. They made it to the fire much faster working together, each slightly out of breath as they tossed the body into the flames with a huff. Anna paused, wiping the sweat that formed on her brow with the back of her hand. She felt eyes on her and glanced over at the woman who was watching her, an odd expression on her face. "Want me to check that out?" she suddenly asked, pointing towards Anna's makeshift bandage.

"Oh, no. It's okay. Thank you though," Anna waved off immediately.

The woman sighed, taking a step closer. "You saved my sons life," she stressed, tears suddenly swarming her vision. "Least I can do is wrap your hand properly," she finished, a steely determination settling over her face.

Feeling a bit cornered, Anna relented, nodding her head in acceptance. The woman shot her a tight smile, motioning for her to follow. "I'm Lori, by the way," the woman introduced as Anna fell in step beside her.

"Anna," she retorted, reaching out to shake the woman's outstretched hand.

"I'm gonna grab the first aid kit — you just go on an' make yourself comfortable by the fire pit, alright?" Lori urged, her expression taut despite the kindness in her eyes.

Anna nodded, parting ways with the woman and heading towards one of the lawn chairs set up near the fire pit. She winced as she lowered her body onto the chair, not realizing until that moment how sore her entire body was. She hadn't slept in over twenty-four hours, barely ate or drank anything, and was finally feeling the aftermath of her scuffle with the walker that almost ended her life.

 _That should've ended my life,_ a quiet thought suddenly snuck up.

Anna sighed, surveying the campsite. Glenn and T-Dog were working together to carry more bodies to the fire. An older woman, with buzzed gray hair and a faraway look in her eyes, held a young blonde girl to her chest, absently running a hand through the girls short hair. The other police officer in the group who'd already introduced himself to Anna — Shane — was hunched over a map, speaking in hushed tones with an older man wearing a khaki fisherman's hat.

And then her eyes landed on Daryl, who was wielding a pickaxe and making sure the dead stayed dead. She watched as he swung the pickaxe into the temple of the dead, grunting as he yanked the blade out. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the crook of his arm, resting the weapon against his shoulder as he turned.

His eyes suddenly flashed towards Anna, narrowing when he realized she'd been watching him. But Anna didn't back down, holding his gaze steadily until he clenched his jaw and stalked back into the forest.

Daryl had saved her life — _again_. For someone who seemed to _truly_ dislike her, he sure was making it a habit of keeping her alive. Twice now he had interfered, putting a stop to whatever had been putting her life at risk. Which led her to believe that maybe underneath all of the archer's stoniness, he had a heart. She had seen it before — that day she first met him on the road, she _saw_ it. He could've left her to fend for herself against Merle, he could've left her stranded, he could've walked away. But he _didn't_.

She sighed once more — there was no use in trying to unravel the enigma that was Daryl. She wouldn't be sticking around long enough to figure him out. As soon as the bodies were cleared and buried, she was leaving for Fort Benning like she should have from the get-go.

Anna saw Lori striding her way, first aid kit in hand. She silently sat on a chair opposite of Anna, balancing the kit on her knee as she rifled through the supplies, pulling out antiseptic and a bandage. "Alright, lemme see," Lori murmured, setting the kit by her feet as she held out her hand. Anna untied the knotted flannel strip, hissing as some skin was pulled along with it, the blood having dried against the cloth. She held out her exposed palm to Lori, who held it gently, examining it close to her face. "Not too bad. We'll have you fixed up in no time," she assessed, a soft smile tracing her pretty features.

"Thank you," Anna replied quietly, allowing Lori to begin cleaning the cut, wincing as she dabbed antiseptic along the wound. "How's your son doing?" she asked, trying to distract herself from the sting.

"He's okay…" Lori hesitated, looking up at Anna. "Carl's strong. He's a real strong boy. He gets it from his father," she emphasized, her eyes softening as she glanced over to where her son sat beside the older woman and her daughter. "So, have you been on your own long?"

Anna paused, gnawing on her bottom lip for a moment. "Uh, kinda. A couple weeks, I think."

"An' before that?" Lori questioned, unraveling the bandage, satisfied that the wound was cleaned thoroughly.

Anna reached subconsciously for her necklace, squeezing the rings in her hand. "I was with my parents," she murmured simply, not needing to go into detail.

Lori looked up at her, expression somber. "Oh, honey. I'm sorry."

Anna shook her head quickly, letting the rings fall back against her chest. "It's okay. It's just how things are these days, right? I mean, look around," she scoffed humorlessly, motioning towards the growing pile of bodies near the RV. Lori followed her stare, nodding sadly as she began wrapping Anna's hand.

"It never gets easier," Lori exhaled. "Loss, I mean," she clarified, sniffling softly.

Anna hummed in agreement, her gaze landing on a blonde woman sitting by the RV — she hadn't moved from that spot all night, still holding hands with one of the survivors who hadn't made it.

Lori followed Anna's eye line over to the pair of women. "Amy was such a sweet girl," she murmured, voice thick with emotion.

"Who's the other woman?" Anna asked quietly.

"Andrea. Her sister," Lori explained as she finished tying the bandage around Anna's wrist. "Amy came back. Andrea put her down. But she still won't let us take her — even pulled her gun on my husband when he tried to talk to her," she griped, clearly not happy with Andrea's threat.

"I'm sure she'll come around once she's ready," Anna sighed sympathetically as she examined Lori's handiwork. "Thank you for this," she spoke, holding up her bandaged hand, quickly changing the subject.

Lori waved her gratitude away. "Like I said — least I could do."

Anna forced a smile before pushing up from her chair and heading back to work, needing to distract herself from her haunting thoughts. All she could think about was Ben and if she and her brother had been in the position Andrea and Amy had been in…would she have been able to pull the trigger?

She hoped she'd never have to find out.

The rest of the morning remained uneventful. The group had decided to put together some semblance of a funeral, wanting to bury their own and pay their respects. And once again, Anna found herself sticking around. She could never seem to find the right time to make her leave, something always drawing her back in.

By early afternoon, the entire group was standing on top of the quarry's peak, the Atlanta skyline in the distance, watching the bodies of their loved ones being rolled into shallow graves. Anna stood off to the side, hands clasped tightly in front of her, watching body after body disappear beneath the Earth. But it wasn't until Andrea stepped forward that it became too much for Anna to bear.

Watching the woman's quiet desperation as she gently maneuvered her sister into her grave broke Anna's heart. She recognized the defeat and utter sorrow crumpling the woman's features, so similar to her own. Anna wiped at a stray tear that snaked down her cheek before she turned on her heel and made her leave, hurrying back down the hill and to the campsite, unable to watch any longer.

The campsite was quiet with the others still up the hill and for the first time, Anna felt like she could finally take a breath — she found peace in the silence. She wandered past the RV and came to a stop beside the quarry's cliffside, overlooking a breathtaking body of water below.

Fort Benning. She needed to start making her trek to Fort Benning — she had to know whether or not her brother had made it there. That was the point of _everything_ she had done up until now and she wasn't going to stop until she found the answers she was looking for.

The quiet didn't last long, a truck's rumble sounding through the air, followed by a crowd of shuffling footsteps. Anna peeked over her shoulder, watching Daryl park his pickup near the RV, sparing her a quick glance before he stormed off to his tent. She watched as the group dispersed, some joining together by the fire pit, others heading towards their respective tents.

Her eyes then landed on the sheriff bringing up the rear of the group, hand in hand with Lori, their son running ahead to catch up to the little blonde girl. Rick caught Anna's gaze and leaned in to kiss Lori's cheek, before parting ways with her and making his way towards the cliffside where she stood.

"Afternoon, officer," Anna greeted with a small salute. He scoffed lightly, some of the tension in his face fading despite the fact that he looked as though he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"How you holdin' up, Brooks?" he inquired, nodding towards her injured hand as he came to a stop in front of her.

"Could be worse," Anna shrugged. "Hey, I'm sorry about your people," she murmured, kicking at the dirt with the toe of her boot.

Rick nodded quietly, eyes far away before coming back to settle on her. "Could'a lost a lot more if you hadn't shown up."

Anna shook her head, brushing him off. "Oh, I really didn't — "

"You _did_ ," he urged, his expression worn but gaze fierce. "You didn't have to give us a ride, but you _did_. You didn't have to help us with that herd, but you _did_. I haven't had the chance to properly thank you for last night. My son is alive an' that's because of _you_."

Anna didn't know what to say, watching as Rick's eyes flooded with emotion, his gaze swiveling towards Carl, giggling alongside Lori near the fire pit.

He cleared his throat, turning his attention back to Anna. "Now, I know you said before that you've got a brother out there somewhere. An' you said you were thinkin' of tryin' for Fort Benning, is that right?"

Anna simply nodded, still taken aback at the sheriff's words.

"I met a man a couple days ago. He told me there were rumors about the CDC an' how it might still be up an' runnin'. Now, Fort Benning is a hundred miles in the opposite direction. I think we should try for the CDC — maybe they're workin' on a cure, maybe there're other survivors," Rick paused, quieting his voice as he took a step closer to Anna. "Jim's gettin' worse an' we can't stay here — all those gunshots last night…we might as well have rung the dinner bell. Those walkers from the city could be headin' up this way as we speak. I think this may be our best shot," he implored, seeming sure about this new course of action.

Anna's brows knitted, confusion spreading over her features. He was speaking as if she was involved in this decision — _'our best shot'._ "If you think the CDC is the best move, I would trust your gut," Anna finally responded. "But my brother left me a note in Atlanta. He said he was heading for the army base. So that's where I need to go."

Rick exhaled, looking torn for a moment. "I get it, Anna, I do. Family's everythin'. But this world jus' isn't what it used to be," he pressed, holding out a hand warily. "Now, riskin' it on your own…the chances of you gettin' there may be slim. But in a group, you may jus' have a better shot. You got people watchin' your back, you got supplies…an' if the CDC's a dead end, we can turn back an' try for Fort Benning."

Anna crossed her arms over her chest, still unsure why she was being included amongst this group of strangers. "Why does it matter what I do? You've got your own people to worry about, don't you?"

Rick cocked his head to the side as if she was missing the point. "You've more than earned your place in this group, Anna," he expressed sincerely. "It's your decision, of course, but I think it'd be good for us _all_ to stick together — an' I've seen you take on those geeks. I know you can handle your own out there. We need more people like that in this group if we stand any chance of survival."

Anna exhaled heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose as she mulled over his words. "Yeah, no pressure," she scoffed sarcastically. The corner of Rick's mouth quirked up as he waited for her answer. "Look, you guys seem like good people — otherwise, I would've been long gone by now," she began. "But my brother…he's all I've got left, you know? I mean, what if the situation was reversed? What if it was _your_ family out there?"

An odd expression flashed across his face as he paused. "I'd do anythin' to find them," he admitted truthfully, a weightiness to his words but Anna didn't press the matter.

"So would I," Anna shrugged meekly, watching as Rick's expression deflated, although he seemed to understand where she was coming from.

But as a heavy silence hung in the air, she wasn't sure as to why she was suddenly so torn about her decision — finding Ben meant everything to her. It'd been something she'd been so dead set on. It'd been what kept her _alive_ this long. But now, after finding this group, after hearing Rick's words…that certainty wavered.

"Jus' think about it, alright?" Rick finally relented, placing a hand on his hip as he scanned the camp. "We're leavin' first thing in the mornin'. Stay the night an' see how you feel tomorrow, okay?" he offered.

Anna found herself nodding in agreement before she realized what she was doing, the sheriff possessing a compelling nature in the art of persuasion. Rick shot her a tight smile, reaching forward and squeezing her shoulder gently.

But as he walked away, heading towards his family and the group of survivors Anna felt so drawn to, she came up with one, single, frustrating conclusion — she was more conflicted _now_ than ever before.

* * *

 _A/N:_ _I hope this chapter wasn't too boring! I know it's not as action-packed or angsty as others, but all good things take time! (I miss season 1 Rick, btw. *sad sigh*) Thanks for all the love and support!_

 _QUESTION OF THE WEEK:_ _Your home has been overrun. You have to evacuate immediately. You can only take three items with you and the rest you'll never see again - what do you take? Something personal? Something resourceful? Which three items do you pick?_


	10. Chapter 10

_**Author's** **Note:** What will Anna's decision be…(Got a bit of a shorter chapter here! But some really beautiful moments as well. Keep on reading!)_

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Dusk crept upon the camp quickly. A couple members of the group had already turned in for the night, exhausted from a long day of work and loss. The rest remained huddled around the small fire pit, some speaking in hushed tones, others trapped in their own thoughts.

Anna made herself comfortable beside the fire, fighting away a chill that wracked through her body. She watched as Lori began divvying up food for the group, scooping each meal into separate bowls and handing them out one by one. Anna had offered up some of the rations she'd acquired from her brother's apartment complex — the can of black beans and the can of peaches — wanting to contribute something for the group's hospitality.

Dinner consisted of black beans, a small portion of fish, and for dessert — one half of a canned peach. Lori handed her a bowl and as if on cue, her stomach growled wildly, eliciting a sad smile from her new friend. But Anna shrugged it off and dug in, forcing herself to take small measured bites, wanting to savor each and every morsel.

It wasn't until she was halfway done with her meal, that she suddenly felt like she was being watched. Her head snapped up, scanning the crowd around the fire, half-expecting the culprit to be the archer shooting her another dirty look. But she spotted Daryl on the opposite side of the fire pit, isolating himself away from the others, eyes glazed over as he watched the flames dance. Anna's brow knitted as she craned her head to the right, faltering once she realized who had been watching her — the blonde little girl, huddled beside her mother, staring at Anna's bowl of food.

Anna slowly chewed what she had in her mouth, noticing how thin the girl's arms were, wrapped around her slender body. The way her cheekbones hollowed and collar bones jutted out. The little girl's bowl was practically licked clean, sitting at her feet, her eyes glued to Anna's remaining dinner — and she felt something tug at her heart. She saw a lot of herself in the little girl, remembering all the times she'd gone to bed hungry growing up, the little money her father made going towards her mother's treatments instead of provisions for the household…

Anna shook away the memories, sighing softly, before turning to face the girl. "Hi there," she smiled, noticing how the girl startled at the sudden attention. "I'm Anna. What's your name?"

The girl buried herself deeper into her mother's side, looking up at her with big, questioning eyes. The mother smiled tightly at her daughter, nodding once encouragingly, the two seeming to have a silent conversation. "I'm Carol," the mother spoke, voice soft and meek, her body curled inwards, almost protectively. "This is Sophia," she introduced, running a hand through her daughter's short blonde hair.

Anna smiled warmly. "Hi Sophia," she shot the girl a small wave, a pang of sadness hitting her when the girl flinched slightly. The mother and daughter seemed constantly on edge, eyes darting around the camp nervously, never speaking more than a few words at a time. When Sophia didn't respond, Anna continued. "Hey, want to help me out with something?" she asked, noticing how the girl sat up a little straighter, her curiosity piqued. "So, I had a _huge_ dinner last night and I'm pretty stuffed, to be honest. But I don't wanna put this to waste. Do you want the rest?" she offered, holding out her half-full dinner bowl.

Sophia eyed the bowl eagerly, her hands twitching out towards it, but suddenly Carol intervened. "Oh, no. No, thank you. That's very kind of you, but we can't accept that," she immediately declined, a strained smile flittering across her lips.

Anna regarded the mother earnestly, pursing her lips together. "It's nothing, really. I swear," she urged softly, before glancing down at the girl. "Like I said, I'm _stuffed_. You'd really be doing me a solid here, Sophia," she continued, keeping her tone lighthearted, glancing up at Carol from under her eyelashes and giving her an encouraging nod.

Sophia licked her lips quickly, peeking up at Carol who's features softened, pausing for a long moment. "Go ahead," Carol whispered with a nod, words tangled in her throat as she locked her teary gaze with Anna, mouthing ' _thank you_ ' over Sophia's head. Anna just smiled, pushing her bowl closer to Sophia, who scooped it up with her bony fingers. "What do you say?" Carol nudged her daughter, quickly wiping away a tear that slipped down her cheek.

"Thank you," Sophia murmured shyly, the hint of a smile tracing her features as she began scarfing down the rest of Anna's dinner.

Anna felt a warmth spread through her chest, despite the growing ache in her belly. She had lied, obviously — she was _starving_. She hadn't eaten a full meal in weeks, her ribs becoming more and more visible each day that passed. But Sophia…she was just a little girl. And sometimes sacrifices had to be made — sometimes a little kindness went a long way.

Anna sighed softly, rubbing her hands together to create some warmth as she turned back towards the fire, her body stilling when she noticed something — every single person sitting around the fire was frozen, all eyes trained on her. Apparently, her private conversation between Carol and Sophia hadn't been as private as she thought.

Some looked astounded, others smiled kindly in her direction, and Anna felt her cheeks redden from all the sudden attention. She cleared her throat awkwardly and slowly stood up. "I'm, uh, I'm gonna turn in," she announced quietly, feeling incredibly exposed all of the sudden, wanting to escape the scrutiny.

As she turned to leave, she spotted Daryl watching her walk away, only pulling his gaze from hers when Lori moved to hand him his own dinner bowl.

Anna ducked her head down and hurried to her truck, which was still parked in front of the RV. Still feeling slightly flushed, she took a moment to breathe deeply, shaking out the fuzziness in her fingertips.

Rick had been kind enough to lend her an extra pillow and blanket, allowing her to set up a rickety little bed in the back of her pickup. She sifted through her full pack, grabbing her travel-sized toothbrush and toothpaste, quickly brushing her teeth before hoisting herself into the bed of the truck.

With a heavy sigh, Anna laid down, pulling the blanket to her chin, staring up at the clear night sky. She'd slept in worse conditions before — but tonight she had a pillow _and_ a blanket. She was happy.

Anna figured sleep would become a futile thing with her mind ticking nonstop. She still had a big decision to make — stay with the group or risk it on her own. She'd been going back and forth for the better part of the evening — each time she swayed towards one choice, another reason to go with the other would pop up.

Her thoughts were filled with never-ending questions and so few answers — would she make it to Fort Benning on her own? Was Fort Benning even still standing? Had Ben made it to the army base _at all_? Or was he already gone? What would he think of this new group? What did _she_ think of this new group? What if she went with them to the CDC and the CDC was destroyed? Could she _trust_ this new group? What if they weren't who they appeared to be? What if she found herself fitting in with them? What if she found her _place_ with them? What would Ben want her to do? What would Ben _do_? What should _she_ do?

Anna groaned softly, feeling the start of a migraine begin to form as she absently rubbed her temples and squeezed her eyes shut — she would give anything to finally have some clarity. She opened her eyes, feeling her thoughts stray as she focused above instead. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, allowing millions of beautiful, shining stars to be gazed at, the deep blueness of the galaxy vast behind them.

The quiet was peaceful. It was calm. Anna simply breathed, feeling the day's events begin to weigh her body down, the heaviness of sleep creeping upon her. But just before she closed her eyes, she suddenly heard someone clear their throat.

Anna jolted up with a soft gasp, not having heard them approach, and swiveled around to see who it was.

She had to hide the look of surprise on her face when she saw none other than _Daryl_ standing beside the bed of the truck.

Anna locked eyes with the archer, feeling slightly breathless for a moment as she pushed the hair back from her face. "Hey," she murmured softly, watching him nod once in return.

An awkward silence passed between the two as Daryl glanced past Anna and towards the darkened city skyline, shifting his weight back and forth uncomfortably. Anna furrowed her brows, picking absently at the bandage wrapped around her palm, waiting for him to talk first. When the quiet stretched on for a moment too long, she couldn't help but speak up.

"Look —"

"I —"

Both Anna and Daryl's words overlapped, having spoken at the same time, neither finishing their sentence as they waited for the other to go on. The archer quickly nodded, motioning for Anna to continue.

She sighed, running a hand through her matted hair. "Look, I meant to — uh, I just…" she sighed. "Thank you for what you did last night," she finally mustered, shrugging a bit helplessly. "You saved my life — _again_ ," she pointed out, scoffing humorlessly.

"Was nothin'," Daryl brushed off gruffly, kicking the toe of his boot against the rear tire.

Anna's lips pursed as she waited for the archer to continue, wondering why he'd come over in the first place. He hadn't exactly been the most _welcoming_ person in the world since she'd run into him again. In fact, he'd been downright _disrespectful_. Yet…here he was, some of that harshness melted off his features, seeming a bit lost for words and Anna once again, couldn't seem to get a read on him.

She gnawed on her bottom lip a moment longer. "Did you need something? Or…" she urged, trying to give the man an out.

But he just shook his head. "Nah," he grumbled, before straightening up, his deep blue eyes locking with her light brown ones. Then, he raised one of his hand and set a bowl on the edge of the truck's bed.

Anna's brows knitted as she slowly reached for the bowl, pulling it towards her and peeking inside — and there she saw a full bowl of food, the same meal that'd been distributed for dinner. Her head snapped up, confusion spreading over her features. "What's this?"

Daryl shot her a look. "Ya lied ta' that lil' girl. Ya practically skin an' bones."

"I'm fine," Anna protested, unsure why she felt slightly offended by his accusation, subconsciously pulling the blanket further up her body. "I'm not taking your food, Daryl."

The archer simply shrugged. "Had a huge dinner last night — don't wanna put it ta' waste," he rumbled pointedly, recalling her words from earlier.

Anna ignored the swell of warmth spreading through her chest. She quickly shook her head, offering the bowl back. "No, I can't. _You_ need to eat."

"An' so do _you_ ," he shot back resolutely, turning on his heel as if to leave, ending the conversation.

"Wait!" Anna called after him, feeling muddled as she tried to figure out what to say. Daryl glanced over his shoulder. "Thank you," she managed, her tone a bit wary as if waiting for the punchline.

But the archer just nodded once, before continuing the walk back to his tent, zipping the entrance closed behind him without another word.

Anna stared at his tent for another long moment, completely baffled as to what just happened. With a frustrated grunt, she fell back against the side of the truck, holding the bowl on her lap. She was having trouble keeping up with the archer's mood swings — one moment, he was holding a crossbow to her head, looking at her as if she were the devil himself, and the next, he was saving her life and making sure she didn't go to bed hungry. She couldn't keep up.

But as her stomach let out a loud growl, Anna decided to put aside her conflicting emotions and dig into the lukewarm meal, moaning blissfully as her empty belly began to fill. She tried not to think about Daryl, but somehow, someway, he just kept on prodding his way into the forefronts of her mind. He was a mystery, that one. And Anna wondered if deep down, there was more going on with him than met the eye.

The food disappeared rather quickly. Anna licked the bowl clean as to not leave any scraps behind and let out a content sigh as she placed the bowl down beside her. She hadn't felt this full in weeks. A quiet giggle escaped her lips as she poked at her perturbing belly, her eyelids suddenly feeling incredibly heavy.

Anna nestled against her pillow, pulling the blanket up around her shoulders as she laid on her side. She stared at the indents marring the interior metal lining the bed of the truck, her thoughts roaming aimlessly as sleep began to overtake her.

She thought of Ben — the way he always watched out for her and made sure she was safe…the way he looked the last time she saw him, asking her to stay in the city and her declining the offer, telling him that one of them needed to stay to take care of their parents…the way his smile always lit up his whole face…the way his honey-brown eyes, similar to her own, crinkled around the edges when he laughed.

If Ben were with her, he'd want her to be safe. That'd been the only thing he'd ever wanted — for Anna to just be _safe_.

Images of Ben's brown eyes suddenly morphed into deep blue ones, hooded and guarded, but a swell of warmth mounting from deep down inside them…

And then the world fell away.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** D'aww…Good lord, Daryl, make up your damn mind and figure your emotions out! He's a complicated guy, that one. Still, gotta love him._

 _ **QUESTION OF THE WEEK:** This is a bit of a different QOTW - more of a check-in. How is everyone liking this story? Is this something you'd like to see written up to the current season? Or something you'd like to see have more of a definitive ending (maybe season 2 or 3?) I will only keep writing so long as people are interested in this story and if y'all would like to see something else, please let me know! My feelings won't be hurt, I promise! Love y'all!_

 _Feedback is INCREDIBLY important. I write for my own happiness, but I also write for YOU. So don't be afraid to shoot me an ask or message or leave a comment with your thoughts! It truly motivates me and helps move along the writing process. Let's discuss and be friends!_


	11. Chapter 11

_**Author's Note :** SURPRISE! Early chapter upload!_

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Anna didn't wake until the suns rays shone through her eyelids.

She groaned softly, rolling onto her back, draping one arm over her eyes. After adjusting to the glaring light, she attempted to stretch out the kinks throughout her body — sleeping in the back of a pickup truck did that to a person.

The air was heavy — the blanket sprawled over her creating a furnace of some sort, trapping the humidity in, beads of sweat saturating her clothing. Anna quickly kicked off the blanket and groggily propped herself up onto her elbows, surveying the already bustling campsite. It looked as though she was the last one to wake, the rest of the group busy taking down their tents and gathering their belongings, getting ready to make their way to the CDC.

Anna pulled herself up with a huff, fighting back a yawn as she collected the pillow and blanket to return to Rick, along with Daryl's dinner bowl that she'd set aside. She hopped over the side of the truck, landing with a _thud_ onto the dirt below her, beginning to make her way over to the sheriff's tent.

Lori was crouched down, shoving an assortment of clothing into a small duffle bag, but looked up after hearing footsteps approach. Her furrowed brow melted into a soft smile as she came to a stand, wiping the dirt from her hands onto her jeans. "Mornin', sleepyhead," she greeted, using one hand to block the sunlight from her face.

Anna rolled her eyes, a smile slipping across her lips. "Uh, Rick leant me these last night. I just wanted to make sure you got them back," she offered over the items in her hands.

Lori shook her head. "No need. We got plenty here," she brushed off, motioning towards a small assortment of bedding near the duffle bag.

Anna faltered, hands still outstretched. "Are…are you sure?" she hesitated, brows furrowing.

"Positive," Lori settled with a nod, hoisting her duffle bag off the ground and adding it to the growing pile beside her.

"Oh…wow, okay. Well, thank you," Anna voiced earnestly, tucking the pillow and blanket beneath her arm.

"You're welcome," she smiled in return. "An' I'll grab that," she reached out for the bowl, taking it from Anna's hands, before nodding towards something in the distance. "Rick wanted ta' speak with you if you wanna head over. He's packin' up the car now."

Anna nodded, still taken aback at the graciousness of the people in this camp. But it was time to face the music. A decision had to be made and it was now or never.

Taking a breath, Anna hurried back to her truck and tossed her new belongings into the back seat, before steeling herself to speak with the sheriff. Rick was dressed in uniform, securing a larger looking suitcase to the hood of a light yellow 1979 Jeep Cherokee, but spotted Anna making her way towards him and sent her a friendly nod. "Hey," she called out, sending him a small wave.

"Hey," Rick returned, tying the last knot and pushing away from the vehicle, coming to a stand in front of her. "So, did you make your decision?" he asked straight away, skipping the bullshit and getting to the heart of the conversation — she liked that about him.

"I did. I, uh…" Anna started, taking a breath as Rick patiently waited for her to speak, eyes knowing and kind. She gnawed on her bottom lip for a moment, gazing off behind the sheriff as she tried to formulate the exact words she wanted to say to him. "I think…I think I'll stick around," she finally mustered, watching the corners of Ricks' mouth turn upwards. "I've thought a lot about it and I, uh — I think staying with a group is the smartest decision," she nodded, as though she was still trying to convince herself. "If you'll have me, of course," she added quickly.

"I wouldn't a' offered you a place here, otherwise," Rick countered, looking at her empathetically. "You sure about this?"

Anna pursed her lips. "Honestly, no," she retorted, although the sheriff didn't look surprised. He simply nodded understandingly as she continued. "But I just don't have the resources or the means to make it another hundred miles on my own. I just don't," she shrugged, staring down at her boots for a moment before exhaling heavily. "I know my brother better than anyone. And I _know_ that he would want me to make the decision that kept me alive — that kept me _safe_ ," she murmured softly. "Even if it meant that I might not ever see him again," she whispered, her voice breaking slightly.

She felt Rick reach forward and gently grab her shoulder, her torn gaze meeting his steady one. "Ya can't give up on family, Anna. Not _ever_ ," he spoke softly, yet words fierce. "There was a time I thought I'd never see my family again. But I _found_ them. I _did_. An' Fort Benning's still an option if the CDC's a dead end."

Anna readied his gaze, her expression serious. "I hope for everyone's sake that it's not."

Rick paused, nodding slowly. "Me too," he murmured, a heaviness settling over his shoulders before he slowly pulled away and cleared his throat. "So, y'all packed up then?" he asked, changing the subject quickly.

Anna nodded. "Just got me and my truck," she shrugged.

Rick peered around Anna, surveying the old, run-down vehicle. "Sure you don't wanna hitch a ride instead?" he offered warily. "That truck seems like it's on its last limb."

"Hey, I love that truck," Anna shot back defensively. "Yeah, it's pretty beat up, but it got me _here_ , didn't it?"

Rick held up his hands in surrender, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. "Alright, alright. Down, girl," he soothed, the corners of his eyes crinkling, some of the stress lines on his face fading.

"What's goin' on here?" came a new voice as Shane suddenly appeared from around the car, shooting glances between Anna and Rick.

"Anna's decided ta' join us ta' the CDC," Rick explained, moving to shut the rear door of the Jeep, leaving Shane and Anna standing opposite of each other.

Shane's form fitted black t-shirt clung to his body, patches of sweat seeping through the material. Anna spotted a chain wrapped around his neck, but whatever was strung through it was hidden underneath his shirt. He was handsome, she had to admit — with tousled, black hair, a strong jawline, and broad shoulders. By the look of his nose, Anna figured the man had been in his fair share of fist fights — it looked slightly crooked, as though it had been broken several times and never healed correctly.

But there was something about his eyes — they were dark and hungry, like a predator stalking its prey — and she subconsciously took a small step back.

"Is that right?" Shane suddenly spoke, talking to Anna directly now.

"Huh?" she sounded, having zoned out for a moment.

A smooth, easy smile slipped over his features as he took a step closer to her. "Rick's sayin' you'll be joinin' us?"

Anna watched as he gave her a thorough once over, eyes hovering over her body a moment _too_ long, and she couldn't shake the feeling of unease he gave her. "Uh, yeah. Seems like it," she replied simply, crossing her arms over her chest as Shane ran a hand through his thick, dark hair.

"Well, then. Happy ta' have ya," he smirked, outstretching his arm towards Anna. She shot him a tight smile and shook his hand, dark eyes glinting as they surveyed her features. She slowly pulled her hand from his, taking another step back as the sheriff rejoined the conversation.

"So, how 'bout we get ourselves a lil' pow-wow goin' before we head out?" Shane inquired, redirecting his attention.

Rick placed his hands on his hips and surveyed the campsite, nodding slowly. "Yeah, let's gather everyone up," he nodded slowly, brow furrowed. "C'mon," he murmured, placing a hand on Anna's shoulder and guiding her away.

"Hey! Need everyone out here!" Shane called out, whistling loudly to draw everyone's attention, the rest of the group slowly filtering in, forming a circle near the vehicles. "Time ta' rollout, alright? Got a couple things we need ta' discuss beforehand," he started, before motioning towards Rick to continue.

Rick straightened himself up and took a deep breath, scanning the group of people watching him, waiting for him to speak. "As most of you know by now, we're headin' for the CDC. After what happened the other night, I think it's pretty clear that this place jus' isn't safe anymore. Now, we might have a real shot here with this move — we can't be the only survivors left an' from what I know, the CDC was built for instances like this one."

"Place is built like a damn fortress," Shane piped in, propping his shotgun against his shoulder. "They've gotta have some sorta idea on what this shit is — a cure or vaccine, maybe a _defense_ of some kind."

"We stick together, alright? No matter what happens, we're in this _together_. There's gotta be more out there. There's gotta be more than jus' _this_. I've gotta believe that. An' I hope y'all do too," Rick finished, taking a moment to look at each and every group member, some bowing their heads, others nodding in agreement.

Anna spotted Daryl — sporting a worn, mustard-yellow flannel with the sleeves ripped off — listening from the outskirts of the circle. He chewed on the side of his thumb as the two men spoke, glancing up every so often, but mostly seeming deep in thought. She wondered what he was thinking about — maybe he was worried that the CDC was already gone. Maybe he didn't want to risk it on the road. Maybe he was thinking about his brother and if he was still alive out there somewhere…

When Rick suddenly placed his hand on Anna's shoulder, she snapped her gaze away from the archer and towards the sheriff instead, catching onto the tail end of his sentence. "— sure most a' you have already met, but this is Anna Brooks. An' she'll be joinin' us to the CDC. Jus' wanted to make sure everyone's been properly introduced before we head out."

Anna felt her cheeks redden at the sudden attention, despite Rick's encouraging nod. She shifted awkwardly, sending a small wave towards the general vicinity of the group before Shane stepped in.

"Alright, everybody, listen up," he intervened authoritatively. "Those of you with C.B.'s, we're gonna be on channel 40. Let's keep the chatter down, okay? Now, you got a problem, don't have a C.B., can't get a signal, _anythin_ ' at all, you're gonna hit your horn one time. That'll stop the caravan. Any questions?"

The group was quiet for a moment, before a Hispanic man, who Anna hadn't been introduced to, spoke up. "We're, uh…we're not going," he mustered, glancing over at his wife and two children for a moment. The group fell silent, looking at one another uncertainly.

"We have family in Birmingham," the wife spoke up, pulling her daughter close to her side. "We want to be with our people."

"You go on your own, ya won't have anyone ta' watch your back," Shane pointed out warily.

"We'll take the chance," the man retorted after a brief pause, before turning his gaze onto Rick. "I gotta do what's best for _my_ family," he emphasized, knowing that of anyone in the camp, the sheriff would be the most understanding as to where he was coming from.

Rick placed his hands on his hips, expression torn. "You sure?"

"We talked about it. We're sure," he countered without missing a beat.

Rick nodded once, sensing that any further protest would be a futile attempt. "Alright," he murmured. "Shane," he waved his friend over, the two bending down to sift through the bag of guns at their feet.

Anna sighed, taking a moment to pull her knotted hair up into a ponytail as she watched the men hand over one of their pistols and a box of bullets. From across the way, she spotted Daryl rolling his eyes and storming off, heading towards a rusted pickup truck, similar to her own, with a motorcycle strapped into the bed.

When a few members of the group began to say their tearful goodbyes to the family, Anna took her leave, feeling like she was encroaching on a private moment. She hurried to her truck and hopped inside, exhaling heavily once the door slammed behind her, comfortable now that she was in her own space.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she pinched the bridge of her nose, suddenly feeling unsure about her decision to stay with the group. The last people she'd traveled with were her parents and she'd lost _both_ of them during that time. She'd witnessed their gruesome deaths right before her very eyes, losing a part of herself in the process — and she didn't know if she could go through that again.

What if she began to care for the people in this group? What if the world tore them away from her like it had with everyone else? Integrating herself into their lives with the possibility of losing them was only going to destroy her even more, taking away pieces of her soul until all that remained was flesh and bone, leaving behind merely a shell of who she used to be.

"C'mon, let's go!" Shane's voice broke through the quiet morning air. "Let's move out!" he called to the rest of his group, clapping his hands together as everyone began making their way to their respective vehicles.

Anna took a deep breath — there was no going back now.

She grabbed her key from the middle console and shoved it into the ignition, twisting it, expecting to hear her engine roar to life — but instead… _silence_.

"What the hell?" she muttered, trying to turn her truck over again, but to no avail. All she heard was an incessant click, a short sputter, and then silence once more. Her head fell back against the headrest, her eyes squeezed shut as she tightened her grip around the steering wheel. " _Shit_."

Her truck had met its final demise.

When Anna opened her eyes, she spotted Rick standing beside her open window, a smug smile creeping across his face as he watched her sigh in defeat. "Mornin', officer," she mumbled wistfully. "Got room for one more?"

* * *

 _ **A/N :** Welp. Sorry, Anna. Looks like you're shit outta luck. I'm excited to be done with the quarry and moving onto new things! (Side note - I actually liked Shane, for the most part. Until he went batshit crazy and all. So I'm not trying to shit all over Shane's character but as soon as Rick joined the group, he changed. The dude was dangerous and he DID have this kinda unsettling vibe about him. Just wanted to put that out there for any Shane fans! Not trying to make him into something he's not, I'm just writing him the way I interpreted him.)_

 _ **QUESTION OF THE WEEK:** Are you on Rick and Michonne's side or Maggie and Daryl's in regards to Negan? I feel like last weeks episode really shed a light on the pros and cons to BOTH sides. So…if you were in this situation, would you keep Negan locked up for the rest of his life? Or would you want him dead to avenge those you lost?_

 _Feedback is INCREDIBLY important. I write for my own happiness, but I also write for YOU. So don't be afraid to shoot me an ask or message or leave a comment with your thoughts! It truly motivates me and helps move along the writing process. Let's discuss and be friends!_


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N : Brb. Still recovering from Rick's departure._

 _(I'm excited to be on the road with the group! Goodbye, Quarry! Hello, CDC.)_

* * *

Anna felt a new sense of resolve after leaving the quarry.

She'd said goodbye to her truck, thanking it for getting her as far as it did, before she gathered up her few belongings and joined the group. Rick had placed her in the RV for the journey to the CDC — the only other spots available being with Shane in his Jeep or Daryl in his pickup. Neither seemed particularly enticing, given the uneasiness she felt around Shane and the ever-present hostility from Daryl, so she made herself comfortable inside the Winnebago.

Dale introduced himself to Anna the moment she stepped foot in his camper, his kind eyes and bushy brows reminding her of her late Grandpa, who she'd lost when she was only seven years old. She knew right off the bat that Dale was a good man — a bit nosey, maybe, as he gave her a quick rundown of each member of the group, who to avoid, who she could trust, who was more skilled than others — but still, he seemed like a good man.

Glenn sat in the front seat, shooting her a warm smile as he officially welcomed her to the group. He seemed like a sweet guy, maybe two or three years younger than Anna — twenty-four or twenty-five, she'd reckon — but even so, he possessed a quiet strength to him.

In the back room, Jim laid wheezing on the rickety bed. He was pale and sweaty, fighting back a groan over each bump the RV drove over. Jacqui sat beside him, pressing a cool washcloth to his burning skin, her haunted eyes speaking what no one else would admit — Jim wasn't going to last much longer.

And he didn't.

The RV ended up breaking down about halfway to the CDC, fumes from beneath the hood cascading over the windshield. The caravan came to a halt on the deserted road, most of the group filtering out of their cars to figure out what had happened. Anna made herself comfortable outside the confines of the camper, leaning against the side of the Winnebago, welcoming the slight breeze in the air as she listened to the others discuss the next course of action.

Talk of searching for a new car part at a nearby gas station was cut short when Jacqui came bounding down the RV's steps, alerting the group of Jim's worsening conditions, before hurrying back to aid the deteriorating man.

"Hey, Rick, ya wanna hold down the fort? I'll drive ahead, see what I can bring back," Shane offered right after, figuring that dividing and conquering the accumulating problems made the most sense.

"Yeah, I'll come along too an' I'll back ya up," T-Dog added, lowering his binoculars.

Rick simply nodded an 'okay', taking a deep breath as he slipped past the group and disappeared inside the RV.

"Y'all keep your eyes open, now. We'll be right back," Shane called over his shoulder as he and T-Dog hopped into his Jeep and took off down the road, leaving the rest of the group in silence, trapped in their own thoughts.

Anna pushed away from the RV, deciding instead to take a seat in the overgrown grass on the side of the road. She let out a huff, resting her elbows against her knees as she closed her eyes, allowing the warmth of the sun to soak into her skin. She tried to calm her ticking mind — she'd always been an over-thinker, a _worrier_ , and the stress of the new world had only heightened those issues.

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to remain confident about her decision to stay with the group. It was for the best. She just had to keep reminding herself that. "The power of positive thinking," Anna murmured aloud, a hint of sarcasm to her words as she sighed and opened her eyes.

Her gaze fell on Daryl, who was pacing back and forth in front of his pickup truck, scanning the trees warily, his face in a permanent scowl. She wondered what could have happened in the man's life to cause that chip on his shoulder — she figured having a brother like Merle didn't help much. The archer came across as a prick — a stubborn, rude, hot-headed redneck. But Anna had seen glimpses of something more. Like the day he fixed her truck and chased off Merle…like the previous night when he gave up his dinner for her…there had to be more to the man than met the eye.

Anna's brows knitted together as she pushed herself off the grass, wiping the dirt from the back of her jeans as she made her way over to the archer, determined to find out for herself. Her steps slowed as she approached, Daryl's pacing suddenly halting, his gaze landing on her. "Hey," she greeted, a bit awkwardly.

The archer gave her a quick once over before subtly nodding his head once in return. He swung his crossbow over his shoulder, looking everywhere except at the woman in front of him.

Anna pursed her lips, shoving her hands into the back pockets of her jeans as she racked her brain for a conversation started. "Is that your bike?" she motioned towards the motorcycle strapped inside the bed of the truck.

"Nah," Daryl grumbled, fidgeting with the strap of his crossbow, kicking at the gravel beneath his feet.

When he offered no explanation, Anna continued. "Did ya steal it?" she teased lightly, waiting to see if the man would take the bait.

But the archer simply leveled her cooly. "Was my brother's," he stated flatly, expression detached, but Anna spotted a shift of emotion in his eyes.

She lowered her gaze, feeling incredibly uncomfortable at the mention of Merle, especially considering the fact that the incident hadn't been broached since she'd joined the group. It was like the giant purple elephant in the room. She wondered if that had something to do with Daryl's animosity. "What happened in Atlanta?" she asked softly, only having gotten bits and pieces of information about the altercation with Merle and the other survivors.

Daryl's eyes darkened as he took a step towards her. "The hell ya askin' for? Ain't your problem anymore, girl. He ain't comin' back — stupid bastard probably got 'imself killed out there, anyways," he snapped, pushing past Anna angrily.

"Hey!" Anna growled as he passed, unable to hold back any longer. "What the hell's your problem?" she spat out, cherishing the look of surprise on the archer's face. "You got something you need to say to me?"

Daryl's features settled back into a scowl as he waved her away. "Ain't got nothin' ta' say ta' ya," he bit back sharply.

Anna huffed a breath incredulously. "I find that hard to believe," she muttered, rolling her eyes, thoroughly sick of the third degree she'd been getting from him. "Can you just decide whether you hate me or not? Because, honestly, I can't keep up with the back and forth here," she continued brashly, unsure where the sudden confidence came from. "One second, you're saving my life, and the next, you're like…you're like _this_ ," she sputtered, motioning towards his rigid stance.

"Ya don't know nothin' 'bout 'nothin', woman," he thundered darkly. "Jus' leave me the hell alone, why don't ya?"

Anna scoffed incredulously, before deciding to do just that, storming past the archer. But she paused for a moment, turning back on her heels, a thought coming to her. "Why did you invite me here?" she suddenly pressed, brows furrowed.

"Shouldn't ya be askin' the sherriff 'bout that?" he snapped in return.

"No, no," she shook her head quickly. "That day on the road, when I first met you…" her voice softened slightly, some of the fire fading from her eyes, replaced by genuine confusion. "You asked me to join your group. _Why_?"

Daryl's expression remained impassive as he shifted back and forth on his toes, seeming like he was unsure how to react to her question. So instead, he remained silent.

After a long moment, Anna sighed, rubbing her forehead wearily. "This is stupid," she muttered to herself, realizing that there were bigger issues going on than Daryl's _feelings_ — or lack thereof. She locked eyes with the archer. "I'll leave you alone from now on," she stated, holding her hands up in surrender as she turned around and headed back for the RV without another word.

So she had been wrong. There wasn't anything _more_ to the archer — he was just a slightly less dangerous version of his brother with a hostile persona and grouchy attitude. Those few glimpses of a kinder man had clearly been a fluke thing and she didn't have the energy to delve any deeper.

Anna decided right then and there that she would no longer waste any more time thinking about Daryl Dixon.

It wasn't long before the group was back on the road.

Jim had made the decision to be left behind, unable to bear the excruciating pain he'd experienced in the back of the Winnebago. It was _his_ choice, _his_ final wish. He wanted to be with his family again — and on his _own_ _terms_.

Anna could understand his suffering.

In a rare stroke of luck, Shane and T-Dog had found the car part they needed to get the RV up and running again at a nearby gas station. And after a heartbreaking goodbye to Jim, the group began the journey to the CDC once more.

Anna watched the passing surroundings fly by, seated at the small table inside the camper, the breeze from the open window tickling her skin. She tried to push away the images of Jim's pale, depleting body…the sweat-slicked hollows of his cheekbones…the life draining from his eyes…but they had already wormed their way inside her mind. There was something eerily familiar about his agony, sending her thoughts back to certain memories she tried so hard to suppress…

 _Anna hated hospitals. There was something about the cutting white walls, the overwhelming aroma of disinfectant, the too bright fluorescent lights, that sent her nerves into overdrive._

 _Her foot tapped anxiously beneath her, fingers drumming against her worn jeans as she stared at the closed door in front of her. She was told to wait outside the room, to take a seat in one of the many plastic chairs lining the hallway while the doctor spoke to her mother and father. Anna glanced down the hallway, wondering if Ben was on his way or if he'd gotten caught up at school. She wished he were here. Her brother always knew what to do._

 _The door suddenly swung open — a tall, lean, grey-haired man appearing, holding a clipboard. The doctor's eyes landed on Anna as he exited the room, shooting her a sympathetic smile before striding quickly down the hall, pulling out a beeper from his back pocket._

 _Anna pulled herself to her feet, hoisting her bulky backpack over her shoulders. She wanted to see her mom. She wanted to know what was happening. Sometimes, Anna felt like her parents purposefully kept things from her — sure, she was only twelve years old, but she had a right to know._

 _Steeling herself to demand some answers, Anna marched towards the doorway, stopping in her tracks when her father nearly ran into her. "Dad," she exhaled, slightly breathless. "What's going —"_

 _The words fell from her lips when she saw the tears forming in her father's eyes — she'd only seen him cry a handful of times in her entire life — and the sight began to churn her stomach. He sniffled softly, sliding his glasses off his nose to brush away the moisture in his eyes, as he cleared his throat, trying to get a hold of himself._

 _He looked utterly and completely wrecked — his dark locks sprouted more and more grey hairs each day, the dark circles beneath his eyes becoming incredibly prominent, the stress lines on his face permanent. Anna couldn't remember the last time she'd seen her father smile._

 _He looked down at her then, haunted eyes searching hers, mouth opening and closing like a fish. And then, before Anna could say anything else, he took off down the hallway._

 _"Dad?" she called after him, feeling lost. But her father merely picked up his stride, shoving open the door to the men's bathroom and disappearing inside._

 _Anna huffed a breath, feeling her eyes swell with tears — but she pushed back the emotion, adjusted the heavy schoolbag digging into her shoulders, and slowly crept through the doorway._

 _The first thing she heard was the steady beeping of a heart monitor. The room was deathly still, eerily silent — and then she heard the soft, subtle cries coming from behind the privacy curtain. Anna swallowed the lump in her throat, reaching out with a shaky hand to pull back the drape, hearing the whimpers cease the moment the curtain was drawn._

 _"Mom?" Anna whispered._

 _She saw her mother lying in bed, quickly wiping the tears from her red-rimmed eyes, forcing a small smile onto her face as she quickly sat up straighter. "Hi, sweetie," she murmured, voice thick and shaky as she motioned her daughter over._

 _Anna took a small step forward, glancing at all the monitors and needles hooked up to her mom. Her eyebrows furrowed as she studied her mom's taut expression, pale coloring, hollowed cheekbones, and felt her stomach drop. "Are you sick again?" Anna spilled out before she could stop herself. When her mother didn't respond, simply lowering her eyes to her folded hands, Anna felt a wave of nausea wash through her. "B-but _—_ but I thought…you said — the doctor said _—_ he said you were better. He said!" she stammered, unable to distinguish whether she was infuriated or heartbroken or bewildered or all three feelings combined._

 _"Honey —"_

 _"I-I don't…I thought — he said after the chemo you'd be better, right? Right?" Anna urged, feeling a pinprick of tears swarm her vision. Her mother placed a frail hand over her lips, most likely attempting to stop another cry from escaping her throat, as she watched her young daughter helplessly try to understand._

 _"Anna, sometimes…sometimes those treatments only help for a little while, sweetie," her mother tried to reason gently, her features crumpling as she herself tried to absorb the news._

 _"It's not fair," Anna whispered, lowering her eyes, unable to look at her deteriorating mother any longer._

 _"Oh, Anna," her mom sighed, a heavy silence settling over the room._

 _But the quiet didn't last long. A pair of footsteps suddenly came rushing into the room and Anna's eyes snapped up, her gaze landing on Ben. His cropped, dark brown hair was disheveled, his tanned skin glistening with beads of sweat. Her brother had sprouted up to a solid 6' 0" over the course of his senior year, muscles toned from working at a local auto body shop throughout high school — but in that moment, standing in the hospital room doorway, he looked as though he was ten years old again, finding out that 'mommy won't be coming home for a while'._

 _Ben was out of breath, his expression a bit wild, school backpack slung loosely over his shoulder as he stared at his mother. He slipped further into the room, sliding his backpack onto the ground as he made his way towards the bed, stopping beside Anna first._

 _"You okay?" he murmured to his little sister, squeezing her shoulder gently._

 _Anna nodded absently, gnawing on her bottom lip, lowering her eyes. Ben sighed softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, before making his way towards their mom. The two exchanged a hushed conversation, but Anna couldn't hear it over the blood pounding in her ears._

 _Sick. Her mom was sick. Again. After years and years of fighting tooth and nail, after narrowly escaping several instances of death, the cancer had come back. And Anna didn't know how her family was going to survive another bout of that horror._

 _She hadn't realized she'd begun to cry until Ben grabbed her shoulder and started leading her out of the room. She craned her neck, getting one last peek at her mother dropping her head into her hands before she disappeared behind the privacy curtain._

 _Anna felt her heart shatter into a million pieces and she wondered if it'd ever feel whole again._

 _Ben guided her out of the room, closing the door shut behind him, before sitting his sister down on one of the hard plastic chairs lining the hallway. He kneeled down on one knee in front of her, rubbing a hand over his strained face — too weary and too taut for an eighteen-year-old._

 _Anna wiped her runny nose with the crook of her elbow, training her eyes down towards her clasped hands, a slight tremble coursing through her._

 _Ben brought down his own hand to cover hers, sighing softly. "It's gonna be okay," he finally mustered, brows knitted together as he waited for Anna to respond. When she didn't, he continued. "Hey, look at me," he urged, nudging her knee gently. "C'mon, Annie."_

 _Anna exhaled heavily, locking her teary gaze with his steady one._

 _The corner of Ben's mouth quirked up, his honey-brown eyes twinkling despite the heaviness etched in them. "It's gonna be alright," he reiterated firmly._

 _"How do you know?" Anna whispered, quickly wiping away a tear cascading down her cheek._

 _"Because I know everything," Ben retorted cheekily, forcing a smile._

 _Anna scoffed in feigned annoyance but felt some pressure lift off her chest. "Seriously, Ben," she pressed. "What're we supposed to do? Dad's already struggling with his job and the bills and you're supposed to be going to college in the fall and Mom barely made it last time she went through this and —"_

 _"Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy there," Ben interjected, shaking his head quickly. "You don't need to worry about any of that. Just…" he briefly struggled for the right words before continuing. "Just be a twelve-year-old kid, okay? Hang out with your friends. Join the soccer team. Gossip about boys or something."_

 _Anna felt a laugh bubble out of her despite everything as she rubbed her eyes. "Yeah and what about you?" she hiccuped, worry etching her features, making her look aged beyond her years._

 _A half smile slid across Ben's lips as he reached out to ruffle Anna's hair affectionately. "Don't worry 'bout me."_

 _Anna gnawed on her bottom lip. "I always worry about you," she pointed out, shooting her brother a troubled look._

 _Ben sighed, eyes softening as he ran a hand through his messy hair. "Hey," he coaxed, nudging her knee once more to get her attention. "I've always taken care of you, haven't I?"_

 _Anna nodded slowly._

 _"And you've always had my back, right?"_

 _She nodded again._

 _"Me an' you, kid — we're gonna be okay. I promise," he finished fiercely, hoping his words brought his little sister some sort of solace._

 _When Anna threw herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, Ben felt his heart swell with warmth. He chuckled softly, hugging her just as firmly as he brought one hand up to cradle the back of her head. After a moment, he pulled away and stood, Anna clambering to her feet after him._

 _Ben took a deep breath, shaking off the sentimental moment as an easy grin slipped over his features. "I'm starvin'. Let's see if the cafeteria's got anythin' edible down there," he clapped his hands together._

 _Anna quirked a smile, adjusting her bulky backpack as the two siblings began to walk side by side down the hallway. _She knew her brother better than anyone. This was what he was good at _— putting that brave face on when shit got really bad. She knew he was freaking out, that he was scared out of his mind about the future _ _ _— b___ ut he'd always put her safety and happiness first. And because of that sole reason, she knew they would be okay. __"Hey, Ben?"_

 _"Hm?"_

 _She glanced up at him, her troubled features smoothing. "You're my best friend."_

 _One of Ben's wide, million dollar smiles, reserved for small moments like this, quickly spread across his face as he pulled Anna's hefty backpack off her shoulders and slung it over his own. "And you're mine, kid," he beamed, throwing an arm around her, pulling her closer to his side. "And you're mine."_

"Anna?"

Anna abruptly snapped out of her thoughts, her eyes swiveling towards whoever had called her name. That's when she noticed Glenn, having moved from the passenger seat to sit opposite of her at the small kitchen table, his brows furrowed. "Hey, sorry," she shook her head quickly, forcing the memory from her mind. "What'd you say?"

He paused for a moment. "You alright?"

Anna nodded quickly, waving off his concern. "Oh, yeah. I was just — I was just thinking, is all."

Glenn looked like he wanted to ask further questions but instead remained quiet, leaning back against the booth and turning to stare out the window.

"I'm sorry about Jim, by the way," Anna suddenly spoke, recognizing the loss in his eyes. "He seemed like a good man."

"He was," Glenn sighed, eyes far away as he absently drummed his fingers against the kitchen table, pausing once more. "I'm just tired of all the death, ya know?"

A sad smile came across Anna's features. "I know," she murmured understandingly, sharing a silent moment with Glenn. He looked so incredibly heartbroken it nearly brought tears to her eyes. And before she could stop herself, she reached across the table and laid her hand over his own, surprising both herself and Glenn.

He glanced down at their intertwined hands, his hand stilling beneath hers for a moment before he exhaled heavily, shooting her a look that expressed a silent _thank you_.

Anna squeezed his hand gently before pulling away, turning her attention back towards the passing scenery. She noticed that the rural countryside had turned into city streets and figured they must be close to the CDC. As if on cue, Dale spoke up from the driver seat.

"I'll be damned," he whistled through his teeth as he brought the RV to a slow stop, the brakes groaning in protest. "Looks like we made it, gang."

Glenn and Anna shared an apprehensive look before scooting out from behind the table, Jacqui hurrying to join them from the back room. Anna crouched down, staring through the windshield at the massive building in front of them — the Center for Disease Control.

It was colossal and mighty and most importantly… _still standing_.

Maybe there was hope here after all.

But for some reason, Anna couldn't shake the feeling in her gut that told her things were only going to get worse from here on out.

* * *

 _A/N : Uh oh. Here we go._

 _So we learned a bit about Anna's past in this chapter! Most importantly, why finding Ben meant so much to her. They've always been each other's rocks. More on that to come in later chapters._

 _I know some of y'all were hoping Anna would end up in Daryl's truck for the ride to the CDC but…this IS a slow burn…so prepare for the burn…_

 _ _Also, Daryl CAN YOU STOP BEING AN ASS FOR LIKE 5 SECONDS. SEASON 1 DARYL WAS SO TESTY, GOOD LORD. But…there may just be a bigger reason for his anger that we don't know about yet…stay tuned…_  
_

 _Glenn is such a sweetie (rip bby. you deserved better). I can't wait for Anna's different friendships within the group to blossom._

 _This story will follow the vague premise of what happens at the CDC, with some added events, but after that, we'll be taking some detours in this story before leading to season 2._

 _Exciting stuff! Can't wait to share!_


	13. Chapter 13

_**Author's Note :** OKAY, Y'ALL. THIS CHAPPIE'S A LONG ONE SO STRAP IN. We learn a lot in this one and are making way for some awesome stuff coming soon..._

* * *

The Center for Disease Control.

There had been a brief, heartbreaking moment where everyone feared the CDC had been abandoned — it's main entrance sealed up tight with an impenetrable steel door, unbreakable windows, and not a single soul in sight besides the dead that roamed the grounds. But much to everyone's surprise, after a desperate plea from Rick begging for whoever was controlling the cameras to show mercy, the steel door slid open and enveloped the group in a beacon of light.

And there they met Dr. Edwin Jenner.

He was apparently the last man standing. All of the doctors, all of the military, all of the scientists — _gone_. He was all that was left. And _that_ was a tough fucking pill to swallow.

After seeing the state of the group, a group filled with _children_ especially, Jenner had decided to go against his better judgment and allow the distressed group inside — the only rule being that everyone was to get a blood test done to ensure no one had been unknowingly infected.

Which led Anna to this moment, watching Jenner pierce the soft flesh of her skin with a needle, her blood slipping from her veins and filling up a small tube to be taken away for analysis.

She was tired — no, she was _exhausted_. She'd been running on empty for days now, physically and emotionally drained from everything she'd gone through. All Anna wanted to do was curl up somewhere and process what her next move would be since the CDC was apparently chopping up to be a dead end. And if this supposed 'safe haven' wasn't what it was promised to be, could the same be said about Fort Benning?

"What's this?" Jenner suddenly asked, his fingers wrapping around her bandaged hand.

Anna sat up straighter, turning her hand over for inspection. "Oh, uh, that's nothing. I just cut my palm on a rock the other day," she shrugged, watching as Jenner began to unwrap the wound.

"I cleaned it up already," Lori spoke from where she sat, Rick propped up behind her, squeezing her shoulder gently, his expression deep in thought.

"Better safe than sorry, wouldn't you agree?" Jenner directed his attention towards Anna, waiting until she gave him a short nod before continuing to unwrap the bandage. The cut didn't look infected — just an angry red slash mark with dried blood caked onto the frayed ends of her skin. Anna watched as Jenner grabbed a cotton swab, dipping it in some sort of liquid before turning back to her. "Saline solution," he murmured before she had a chance to ask what it was.

He began prodding at the wound, collecting a sample of the dried tissue for further examination, eliciting a quiet hiss from Anna as he pressed the swab a little too deep.

"All set," he voiced once he was satisfied, slipping the cotton swab into a separate vile before reaching to grab a small first aid kit. He swiftly wrapped Anna's hand in a clean bandage, removed the needle from her arm and motioned for Andrea to come forward for her turn.

Anna pulled down her sleeve, rubbing her sore arm as she stood, the floor tilting beneath her for a moment before she regained her balance. Black spots danced in her vision as she eased herself down onto another chair near the rest of the group, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

She had so many questions — what happened here? Where was everyone? What _was_ this outbreak? Was there a cure? What did Jenner know? She had a weird feeling that the man was keeping some important information from them, but she was too tired and too overwhelmed to find the energy to ask. There would come a time for that — and the time sure as hell wasn't now.

Anna nearly wept with relief when Jenner offered the group all the food they could stomach, ushering them into the CDC's cafeteria for dinner. There was a nearly tangible electric buzz coursing through the group as they spread out amongst one of the long tables, waiting eagerly for the first decent meal they'd eat in _weeks_.

Anna took a seat at the far end of the table, putting a little distance between herself and most of the group. But the isolation didn't last long when Glenn spotted her, furrowed his brow, got up from his seat at the opposite end and made his way towards her instead. "Do you think he'll have Twinkies? Man, I hope he has Twinkies," he grinned as he approached, rubbing his hands together, plopping down in the seat next to her.

Anna felt a small smile creep across her face — she liked Glenn. He seemed like a truly decent guy with an incredible warmth to him. He made her feel welcome — like she'd always been a part of the group and not some random newcomer. A soft laugh bubbled out of her. "Twinkies? Really?" she teased.

Glenn nodded his head quickly, scooting his chair closer to the table. "Are you kidding? Twinkies are the best. I practically lived off them in college," he beamed, drumming his fingers along the table top as he eagerly scanned the cafeteria for Jenner's reappearance.

Anna just shook her head as another laugh slipped through her lips. Glenn shot her a kind smile before he turned the other way to say something to T-Dog, giving Anna a moment to assess the current situation without distraction.

The group was splayed out around the table — most busy chatting with one another, everyone looking more relaxed than Anna had ever seen them. All except for Andrea, who sat quietly, hands folded in her lap, eyes glazed over as she stared off into space. She was thinking about her sister — Anna wasn't a mind reader, but she also wasn't stupid. The poor woman had _just_ lost her sister — there was no possible way she could be thinking of anything else.

A sudden pain tugged at her heart and Anna forced her eyes away, unable to watch the grief crashing through Andrea's eyes any longer. She found her gaze suddenly traveling towards Shane, who also wasn't participating in conversation — he sat upright in his chair, elbows on the table, chin resting atop his clasped hands, eyes trained on Rick and his family. There was something about his stare, something about the sharpness in his eyes, the coldness, that sent a chill through Anna before she pulled her gaze away.

And then, Anna found herself studying the archer.

She hadn't spoken to him since the RV broke down — hell, she hadn't even _looked_ at him. The last thing she needed was more drama and that was all this guy seemed to bring to the table. She wasn't one to play games and she, quite frankly, didn't give a shit whether he liked her or not. There was enough turmoil in the world without his projected issues added on top. She hadn't meant to get involved with the group, she hadn't meant to run into Merle that day on the road, but it happened. There was no going back. And Daryl could huff and puff, he could be cold and aloof, he could do whatever the hell he wanted — it wasn't Anna's problem.

But…as Anna stared at him, watching his usual scowled expression relax for the first time since she'd met him, the infectious positive energy clearly affecting him as well, she couldn't help but feel a pinprick of hurt.

 _Why_ did he hate her so much? She didn't understand. She hadn't done anything to him — at least, she didn't _think_ so. What could've possibly happened to warrant all the hostility from him?

Anna's thoughts were halted when the cafeteria doors swung open and Jenner appeared, hefting a large crate into the room. The group perked up, eyeing the crate hungrily as he approached, placing it down onto the table with a huff.

"Tomorrow is never guaranteed," Jenner suddenly announced, his gaze sweeping across the faces of his new guests before he reached into the crate and pulled out two bottles of wine. "So tonight we feast."

A collective murmur spread across the group as they nodded their heads, some clapping, others cheering in agreement. Anna felt a smile spread across her face as she glanced over at Glenn who proceeded to tip his worn baseball hat in Jenner's direction.

And then they feasted.

Spaghetti and meatballs, rice, baked beans, string beans, canned corn, canned pears, peanut butter, olives, cheese, crackers, and all the bottled water and wine they could stomach. It was as if the entire world around them wasn't what it was — there were no walkers, no decimated cities, no bleak future. It was just a group of people, enjoying a nice meal and delicious wine, partaking in pleasant conversation — it was a glimpse of how life was _before_.

Jenner urged everyone to eat their fill, given the fact that most of the food wouldn't last much longer and would end up going to waste.

No one needed to be told twice.

Anna scarfed down the meal in front of her, reveling in the lukewarm spaghetti, the nearly expired cheese, the canned meatballs. It was the best damn meal she'd had in her entire life and by the practically giddy expressions around her, it was safe to say she wasn't the only one thinking that. She ate until her stomach rounded, finally filling up her loose jeans, the seemingly permanent rumble in her tummy ceasing.

"Sure you don't want a drink?" Glenn offered later on, holding out the now almost empty bottle of wine towards her, his words slurred and cheeks flushed from the alcohol he'd been consuming throughout the night.

Anna had declined earlier, choosing instead to stick with water, unsure when it'd be so readily available again. "I'm sure," she reiterated her answer, sighing contently, leaning back in her chair as she scanned the rest of the table, the room buzzing with laughter, flowing with booze.

"— not you, Glenn," Daryl's gruff voice suddenly interjected, drawing Anna's attention.

"What?" Glenn sounded, caught off guard as a lazy smile tugged at his lips.

"Keep drinkin', lil' man. I wanna see how red your face can get," the archer jeered, pouring himself another heaping glass of wine. Anna had never seen Daryl so relaxed, so playful, so… _normal_. It was a weird moment to observe, especially from a sober point of view, but she found a bewildered smile slipping across her features.

Daryl must've felt eyes on him because his gaze swiveled over towards Anna, the grin on his face faltering as he took in her bemused expression. A moment passed between them before a sudden _clinking_ had them turning their attention towards Rick, the room instantly quieting.

"It seems ta' me we haven't thanked our host properly," he announced, pulling himself to his feet as he raised his glass.

"He is _more_ than jus' our host," T-Dog added with an incredulous chuckle, following suit as he toasted Jenner who sat silently at a separate table.

A collective murmur of cheers and thanks sounded throughout the room as everyone began to show their gratitude and appreciation for the man who had saved them all. Anna tipped her bottle of water towards the man, studying his pensive features, wondering what he was thinking about that had him so solemn all of the sudden.

But before she could ponder any further, another voice rang throughout the room. "So, Anna," Dale suddenly declared, her head snapping towards him. "Why don't you tell us a little bit about yourself?"

Anna felt the room instantly shift around her, all eyes trained her way, waiting for her response. She slowly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, glancing over at Glenn for support, but he merely shrugged and took a long swig of wine straight from the bottle. "Uh," she mumbled, feeling her cheeks redden at the sudden attention. "Not much to tell, really," she brushed off, scanning the faces of those around her uneasily.

"Oh, come on," Dale laughed good-naturedly, leaning forward to rest his forearms on the table, seeming genuinely intrigued. "There's gotta be something worth sharing, right?" he looked around the table for agreement, some members of the group nodding in response, before Dale turned back to study her from under his bushy brows. "Why don't you tell us where you're from?" he offered, his kind eyes showing nothing but encouragement.

Anna clasped her hands tightly in her lap, digging her thumbnail into the bandage wrapped around her injured palm. "I'm, uh, I'm originally from up North," she offered quietly, shrugging a shoulder.

"Was wonderin' why I couldn't hear an accent," Rick quipped, smiling supportively in her direction. "So what brought ya down South?" he asked curiously, taking a sip of wine from his glass, staring at Anna from over the rim.

Anna felt her stomach flip and worried for a moment that her meal would reappear on the table in front of her. "My family had to relocate about ten years ago — moved down to Virginia. It was more affordable," she explained, wringing her hands together in her lap as she addressed the sheriff, wondering if this was how he acted during interrogations.

"Did you go to college? Study anything in school?" Dale pressed, clearly intrigued.

Anna scoffed lightly, shaking her head. "I actually didn't go to college. Couldn't afford it."

"Dale, enough with the twenty questions," Andrea suddenly snapped, speaking for the first time since they sat down. She looked thoroughly annoyed, rolling her eyes at the old man as she gulped down the rest of her wine.

"What?" Dale laughed, holding his hands out innocently. "Just making friendly conversation, that's all."

"It's fine," Anna interjected quickly, not wanting to start any drama between the two. If Dale wanted answers, well then damn it, she'd give him some. "I just worked after high school mostly — waitressing, bartending, whatever I could do to make a little cash. My brother worked at an auto shop, so between the two of us, the bills got paid," she shrugged, answering what was bound to be Dale's next question.

He nodded thoughtfully, resting his chin atop his clasped hands. "And what did your parents do?"

Anna clenched her jaw, pushing away the inkling of frustration she was beginning to feel, Dale's inquisition bringing up all of the negative feelings she'd been trying to ignore, all of the pain and grief she'd worked so hard to push away. "My dad was an electrician. Lost his job a couple years back. My mom didn't work. Spent most of her life in a hospital. We picked Virginia because there were doctor's down here who could take care of her."

The room stilled. Anna glanced around, the intensity of everyone's gaze burning a hole into her flesh, so she trained her eyes down on her clasped hands instead. After a long moment of silence, Dale spoke once more. "Cancer?" he murmured.

Anna's head jerked up, her gaze boring into his. "How —"

"My wife," he cut her off before she could ask any further, leaning back in his chair with a heavy sigh. "My wife passed not too long ago from it. You've got that look in your eyes — I've got it, too. Devastating illness, I'll say. Nothing you can do but sit and wait, watching the person you love just…just _disappear_ ," he whispered that final word, looking as though he was reliving some kind of painful memory. Anna felt her eyes suddenly water and forced her gaze downward once more. "I'm sorry you had to go through that," he finished earnestly, waiting until Anna looked back up to give her a compassionate nod.

"She survived the cancer," Anna finally muttered, clenching her jaw. "It was the bite that got her."

The room quieted further, so much so that a pin could drop and Anna would hear it. Her face felt hot under the group's stare and she hated the pity she could sense in their gazes. She knew Dale meant well, that he was just trying to get to know her, but Anna wasn't trying to relay her pathetic life story to a group of strangers. She cleared her throat quickly as everyone began breaking off into separate, quiet conversations, a tangible awkwardness that wasn't there before masking the room.

"Glenn?" Anna murmured once the group's attention left her, turning to face her newfound friend. "I think I'll take that drink now."

Glenn didn't say anything in return. He simply shot her a sympathetic look and poured her a heaping glass of wine. Anna grabbed the glass with her trembling fingers, exhaling shakily as she chugged the contents in one, long swig. When she pulled the glass away from her lips, her eyes caught sight of Daryl sitting across the table — he was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed against his chest, pensive eyes boring into hers.

The archer was the only person still staring at her, the rest of the group having broken off into side conversations. Anna slowly wiped the moisture from her lips with the back of her hand, leveling his stare, wondering what he could _possibly_ be thinking about in that moment. Her thoughts were interrupted when Glenn nudged her, offering her another glass of wine which she gratefully accepted, pulling her gaze from Daryl's.

"So when ya gonna tell us what the hell happened here, Doc?" Shane suddenly inquired, his voice drowning out the rest as everyone quieted uncomfortably. "All the, uh, the other doctors that were supposed ta' be figurin' out what happened. Where are they?" he asked, glancing around the table as he grabbed his glass, ignoring the pointed stares he was receiving from the rest of the group.

"We're celebratin', Shane," Rick immediately interjected, shooting his friend a look. "Don't need ta' do this now."

"Whoa, wait a second," Shane held up his hand incredulously. "This is why we're _here_ , right? This was _your_ move," he continued, directing his words towards Rick. "Supposed ta', ya know, find all the answers an' instead we, uh, —" he broke off, a disbelieving laugh slipping through his lips. "— we found _him_ ," Shane jerked his thumb in Jenner's direction, his expression turning serious. "We found _one_ man. _Why_?" he demanded, turning his attention onto Jenner, waiting for him to answer.

A heavy silence settled over the room and Anna took another long drink, relishing in the burning sensation it brought in the pit of her stomach, the effects of the alcohol already warming her body. Maybe if she drank enough, this horribly, uncomfortable tension would disappear — so she took another hearty swig as Jenner suddenly spoke.

"Well, when things got bad, a lot of people just… _left_ ," he began slowly. "Went off to be with their families. And when things got _worse —_ when the military cordon got overrun — the rest bolted," he murmured, eyes distant as he stared down at the table.

"Every last one?" Shane fired back, his expression smug like he didn't believe a word Jenner was saying.

"No," Jenner's head snapped up, his fiery gaze boring into Shane's. "Many couldn't face walking out the door. They… _opted out_ ," he managed, shooting Shane an aggravated look. "There was a rash of suicides," he explained softly, the group around the table shifting awkwardly, some choosing to drink, others lowering their gazes. "That was a bad time," he murmured, mostly to himself.

" _You_ didn't leave," Andrea suddenly pointed out, genuinely interested. "Why?"

"I just kept working — hoping to do some _good_ ," he finally replied, his tormented eyes locking with Andrea's.

Another long moment of silence settled over the cafeteria, everyone trapped in their own thoughts, mulling over Jenner's confession.

From the corner of her eye, Anna saw Glenn stand up and push away from the table. "Dude, you are such a buzzkill, man," he mumbled in Shane's direction, clearly annoyed with the reminder of the depressing reality they lived in.

The brief moment of peace had been nice while it lasted.

Everyone seemed ready to head their separate ways for the night, the lighthearted-dinner-turned-heavy having exhausted what little energy they had left. Jenner had brought the group down a long hallway lined with bedrooms, allowing everyone to pick a space to sleep in that night. The mood amongst the group perked up at the mention of something they never thought they'd experience again — _a hot shower_.

Anna made herself at home in a small, closet-sized bedroom at the end of the hall. There wasn't much inside — just a rickety cot, a pillow and blanket, and a trunk at the end of the bed — but it was more than enough for her. She was most excited about the tiny bathroom attached to the room — she couldn't even remember the last time she'd showered properly, her natural stench and those around her something she'd become accustomed to over the past few weeks.

But as she stood below the shower head, letting the scalding water wash over her bruised, tired body, cleansing her flesh of all the dirt and grime it had accumulated over the past few weeks, she felt rush of emotion clog her throat. It may have been the wine coursing through her veins, those two hearty glasses having taken advantage of her demolished tolerance, but for some reason, tears sprung to her eyes.

The CDC was a dead end. There was no one left. There was no cure. There was nothing. Anna wondered if Fort Benning would've held the same fate for her.

She sniffled softly, scrubbing her skin raw in the attempt to clean the filth from her body. She shampooed and conditioned her hair _twice_ , a small, disbelieving laugh slipping through her lips as she finally washed the grease from her strands. Once she was done with the washing, she merely stood beneath the shower head, eyes closed, relishing in the moment, unsure when this small miracle would happen again.

The water began to chill and Anna quickly turned the faucet off, her lips frowning as a shiver wracked through her. "Nice while it lasted," she murmured aloud, her words slightly slurred as she stumbled out of the shower. "Lightweight," she muttered to herself, rolling her eyes as she grabbed a spare towel and wrapped it around her body.

She wasn't a big drinker growing up — she spent most of her time working after she turned twenty-one, so she never went through that 'party faze' most people her age endured. She and Ben would have a beer after especially tough days at home, but other than that, her experience with alcohol was limited. She had to admit though — it felt pretty damn nice. Everything felt heavy and warm and foggy, like the world had muted around her — the brevity of calm was alluring.

In the midst of serenity, a sudden memory seeped through Anna's mind.

 _Anna pushed open the creaking screen door that led outside, spotting Ben sitting on the crumbling front steps. "Hey," she greeted softly, closing the door shut behind her._

 _Ben glanced at her from over his shoulder, giving her a short nod and patting the empty space next to him. "How was work?" he murmured as Anna took a seat._

 _Anna sighed heavily, resting her elbows on her knees. "It was fine. Pretty slow, so made shit tips," she grumbled, staring at the deteriorating house across the street. It looked incredibly similar to her own — broken shutters, crumbling siding, the interior even_ worse _. But it was cheap. It was affordable. And even though she and Ben were forced to share a tiny, closet-sized bedroom, they had a roof over their heads. That was all they could ask for._

 _"It'll pick up," Ben nodded, his ever-present positivity something Anna envied — although as she peeked a glance at him, she couldn't help but feel that something was off, that something was bothering him._

 _She nudged his side gently. "What's up with you?"_

 _Ben exhaled, rubbing a hand over his haggard face, his fingers still stained with grease from his shift at the auto shop earlier that day. He reached for something near his feet, picking up a half-empty beer bottle and taking a long swig before offering it over to Anna. She took a sip, swishing the lukewarm liquid around in her mouth, her stomach unsettled by Ben's lack of response._

 _She nudged him again. "Come on, talk to me," she murmured, locking her fingers around the bottle._

 _Ben dug the heel of his boot onto the concrete steps, absently brushing his fingertips over the growing stubble on his chin. "Anna, I'm moving out," he finally mustered._

 _Anna studied his features for a long moment before turning her eyes downward, studying the beer bottle's label. She wasn't surprised. She knew eventually this was going to happen and she'd been preparing for it. "When?" she mumbled._

 _Ben sighed again. "Couple of days."_

 _Anna scoffed softly. Now,_ that _she wasn't expecting. "Where?"_

 _Her brother fidgeted for a moment beside her and she knew by that short pause, she wouldn't like his answer. "Atlanta."_

 _Anna's head snapped up, her fiery gaze boring into his guilty one. "Atlanta?" she shot back incredulously. "You're moving out of state?"_

 _"It's not that far," he defended, rolling his eyes._

 _"It's like fourteen hours away, Ben," she protested, trying to mask how hurt she felt._

 _Ben shook his head slightly, training his eyes on the house across the street. "It's nine hours and thirteen minutes, actually."_

 _Anna scoffed once more, feeling a swell of tears cloud her vision, but she quickly pushed them away. "Well, it might as well be on the other side of the country."_

 _"Anna, I'm twenty-eight years old. How many twenty-eight-year-olds do you know still live at home?" Ben snapped, huffing in annoyance._

 _"Our situation is different and you_ know _that," she shot back pointedly._

 _"Bullshit!" Ben cussed, standing abruptly, beginning to pace the small portion of sidewalk in front of the steps. "Mom and Dad need to start taking care of themselves — it shouldn't be on_ us _. We're_ their _kids, for Christ's sake! Not the other way around!"_

 _Anna's brow furrowed, this rare outburst from her brother something she wasn't used to seeing. "Ben —"_

 _"I mean, at some point we've gotta start living for ourselves, right?" he continued, bulldozing over her attempt to calm him. "Right?" he pressed, waiting for Anna's reply._

 _She took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Right," she finally murmured, squeezing her eyes shut. _Her brother was right. He was_ always _right.__

 _When she opened her eyes, Ben was standing in front of her, his expression troubled as he moved to sit beside her once more. "I want you to come with me."_

 _"I can't," Anna retorted before she could even mull over his offer._

 _Ben shot her an exasperated look. "Well, you can't stay here."_

 _"I have to," Anna shrugged helplessly. "We can't_ both _leave, Ben."_

 _"Well, I'm not leaving you alone in this shit-hole neighborhood, in a house that's about three seconds from caving in on itself," he fired back, gritting his teeth together in frustration. "You're twenty-two now and _—_ Jesus, Anna, these are supposed to be the best years of your life. And all you do is work and take care of Mom," he sighed, his tone soft, expression tense. "What the fuck kinda life is that?"_

 _"Ben, I'm okay," Anna murmured, nodding her head, trying her best to appear convincing. "Look, it's not like I'll be here forever. It's temporary. And when Dad finds a job, or when Mom's feeling better, maybe — maybe then I can go."_

 _A long moment of silence passed where neither of them spoke. "Okay," Ben suddenly voice, nodding his head. "Okay, we'll wait until then."_

 _A look of confusion flashed across Anna's face. "What'd you —"_

 _"I'm not leaving you. It's not happening. I'm not gonna go off and leave you to deal with all this shit by yourself," he stated, steadfast in his change of heart. "Fuck that."_

 _"Ben, no. I promise I'm fine. You need to do this and —"_

 _"Not without you, Annie. I'm not going anywhere without you."_

 _Anna felt a pang of guilt shoot through her. "C'mon, Ben. I'm not a little kid anymore. I can take care of myself."_

 _"Anna —"_

 _"No, listen to me for a second," Anna interjected firmly, waiting until Ben nodded for her to continue. "Ben, you've taken care of me my entire life. Ever since I was four years old and afraid to sleep by myself during thunderstorms," a quiet laugh bubbled out of Anna as Ben's eyes softened. "You've done more for me than anyone else ever has. So please…please just do this one thing for yourself."_

 _Ben shook his head slowly, expression torn. "But —"_

 _"No," Anna snapped, cutting him off. "No, I don't wanna hear it. I will be just fine. I promise," she pronounced each word clearly, hoping she'd get through to her brother. "It's temporary, remember?"_

 _Ben sighed after a lingering moment, long and heavy, shaking his head slightly. "You've gotta stop putting everyone else's needs before your own."_

 _Anna quirked a smile, ignoring the lump forming in her throat. "I blame_ you _, big brother. You're the one that raised me, after all," she teased, but somehow, her words came out heavier than intended._

 _Ben just shook his head once more, shoulder slumped in defeat. "You're really not gonna come with me?" he murmured, glancing at Anna from the corner of his eye._

 _Anna gnawed on her bottom lip for a moment before quirking her brow. "No guy wants their little sister crashing at their bachelor pad — total buzzkill," she smirked._

 _Ben nudged her with his elbow. "I don't mind. You can be my wing woman — help me pick up chicks," he waggled his eyebrows at her and Anna felt a laugh push its way out from deep in her gut._

 _"Maybe when I come to visit," she grinned, taking a swig from the beer bottle before passing it back to her brother._

 _Ben brought the bottle to his lips, finishing its contents, before slinging an arm around Anna's shoulders and pressing a kiss to the side of her head. "Whenever you're ready to leave, you've got a place with me. You know that, right?"_

 _A soft smile spread across Anna's features despite the growing pain in her heart. Still, she sighed, resting her head on Ben's shoulder. "Right."_

Anna snapped back to reality as another chill coursed through her.

That had been five years ago — five years ago that she and Ben had sat on those steps and had that conversation. She'd had every intention of picking up and moving to Atlanta, but for some reason, it'd never happened. Her dad had never found a job with steady income, her mom's health had only deteriorated, and she herself had never found the courage to make that final step.

Anna had visited Ben a handful of times once he'd moved — she'd drive to the city and stay the weekend, he'd show her around and introduce her to his new friends, and they'd talk about what her life would look like once she made the move herself. But over the years, time and distance ran its natural course and Anna found herself seeing less and less of her big brother…

Anna quickly pushed away the painful memory and toweled off before she wiped the steam from the bathroom mirror, getting a good look at herself _clean_ for the first time in God knows how long. Although she was much bonier now, her face worn and tired, she was beginning to see a semblance of who she used to be — maybe there was hope in this place after all.

She grabbed a clean comb from one of the sink drawers and went to work untangling the mess of knots her hair had become. It took her a solid twenty minutes to undo the damage done, but in the end, her hair was clean, combed and looking healthy.

Anna found some spare clothes in the trunk at the foot of the bed and slipped into them — she tried to ignore the nagging thoughts of who these clothes _used_ to belong to. They were a bit loose on her, the sweatpants hanging off her hips and the t-shirt baggy, but they were _clean_. This was turning out to be one of the best nights of her life.

After getting all settled, feeling fresh and like herself again, Anna felt the sudden urge to explore. When would this opportunity ever come again? The CDC was a fortress. There were no hidden dangers lurking, no untended to threats waiting to strike. And it wasn't like she was going to sleep much — her mind was a constant ticking time bomb, her dreams plagued with nightmares. She wanted to _explore_.

Anna crept out of her room, the hallway quiet, the rest of the group having either turned in for the night or off doing something else. She meandered down hall after hall, peeking into the rooms with open doors — she checked out the recreational room where she ran into Carol and the kids, she found the library, the walls covered with hundreds of dusty books — before she decided to try upstairs.

She found the elevator Jenner had brought them to when they'd first arrived and made her way up to the main floor. The lobby was eerily quiet, vast and vacant, concealed in darkness as she walked out of the elevator. But as soon as she entered the space, the main lights automatically turned on, sensing her presence.

She spotted the main doors that her group had arrived at earlier that night, the steel door returned firmly in place. Tilting her head up, she breathed in awe at that cascading glass windows that lined the broad ceiling. But just as she turned to make her way back towards the elevator, she spotted someone slouched on the staircase near the front window.

"Glenn?" Anna murmured softly, recognizing his trademark baseball cap first.

His head snapped in her direction, a lazy smile slipping across his features. "Anna!" he grinned, holding his arms out, one hand clasped firmly around the neck of a wine bottle.

Anna snorted a laugh. "What the hell are you doing up here? Sitting in the _dark_ , might I add?" she pointed out as she approached the stairs.

"Oh, the, uh…" Glenn fumbled for the right words, scratching the side of his head. "The lights! Yeah, the — the lights turned off an' I, uh, didn't really kinda know how to sorta turn them on," he shrugged, words slurred and incoherent. "Oh...well, m' drunk," he hiccuped, resting his elbows on the stair behind him.

Anna rolled her eyes, sighing as she took a seat beside Glenn on the stairway. "They're motion sensors, I think," she murmured, glancing out the window that gave sight to the outdoors. In the distance, she could spot the RV, but in front of that was a graveyard full of the dead. She shivered when she realized that she could've very well been one of them had Jenner not allowed them inside.

"Here," Glenn mumbled, passing her the bottle of wine, which she happily accepted, taking a long swig.

"So, are you originally from around here?" Anna inquired, taking one more sip before passing it back to Glenn.

He shook his head. "Michigan. Moved — uh, moved to Atlanta after college. Got a job —" he hiccuped, "— deliverin' pizzas. It was _awesome_. Was livin' the dream," he sang the last couple of words, using the wine bottle as a microphone before swaying from where he sat, his skin losing its color all of the sudden.

"Oh, boy, you really _are_ drunk," Anna laughed, grabbing his shoulder to stop his swaying.

Glenn groaned, dropping his head down to his chest and rubbing his eyes. "S' Daryl's fault," he grumbled incoherently. "He — he wanted this and — and now," _hiccup_ , "now he got it."

Anna felt the corner's of her mouth quirk up as she patted Glenn's back understandingly. She sighed softly, resting her elbows on her knees, her chin in her hand. Thoughts of the archer suddenly invaded her mind and although she'd promised herself she wasn't going to bother with Daryl anymore, something was nagging at her. It could've been the booze, 'liquid courage' as Ben used to say, but Anna found herself speaking before she could stop herself. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Mhm?" Glenn hummed, forcing his gaze towards her.

Anna paused, tucking a strand of her still-wet hair behind her ear, carefully formulating her next words. "What's the deal with Daryl?" she spoke slowly, cautiously, part of her chastising herself for breaking her 'no more Dixon drama' rule.

But she couldn't help herself — it was now or never. She was intoxicated and Glenn probably wouldn't remember any of this in the morning anyway.

So it was time to get some fucking answers.

* * *

 _ **A/N :** Oh man, I can't wait until y'all see what I've got in store for you in the next chapter..._

 _Lots happened in this chapter!_

 _Thanks to Dale's interrogation, we got to learn a bit about Anna._

 _Shoutout to jodiereedus22 for inspiring that little flashback moment! Ugh, I just love Anna and Ben's relationship - even though he left, but can you blame the man?!_

 _Also, loving the budding friendship between Anna and Glenn/drunk Glenn._

 _And next chapter...we're finally getting some answers involving the mystery that is Daryl Dixon! Stay tuned!_

 _QUESTION OF THE WEEK: Why do you think Daryl's got such an especially large chip on his shoulder when it comes to Anna? From her understanding, it's unwarranted...but there may be more that's happened than she realizes. Any ideas?_


	14. Chapter 14

_**Author's Note :** WE'RE GETTING SOME ANSWERS. WHOOP! Okay…not gonna lie…I really like how this chapter turned out! But I'M SO EXCITED FOR THE NEXT ONE! It's chopping up to be my favorite thus far!_

 _ **TRIGGER WARNING :** Attempted assault (It's not super graphic or intense, but I still wanted to put this warning here just in case anyone is triggered easily by this subject.)_

* * *

"Huh?" Glenn murmured, brows creased in confusion as if he hadn't heard her.

Anna smiled tightly, rolling her eyes as she turned to face him head-on. " _Daryl_ ," she clarified, waiting until a look of understanding flashed across his face. "I just — he seems like —I don't know, he kinda seems like —"

"A prick?" Glenn finished the sentence, quirking an eyebrow up playfully.

Anna scoffed. "Yeah, pretty much," she nodded, wrapping her arms around her knees as she waited for Glenn to continue.

"I don't know," he began, shrugging slightly as he stared off. "Daryl's… _complicated_ ," he sighed, fumbling for the right words.

"I just feel like he — God, this is so stupid," Anna grumbled to herself, unsure why she was even putting this much energy into a lost cause. "I just feel like he hates me or something. And I'm not really sure why, or what I did, or…" she trailed off, feeling utterly pathetic about her confession.

"He doesn't hate you," Glenn immediately retorted, shaking his head. "I mean, I don't —" _hiccup_ , "— think he does," he murmured, a bit unsure suddenly. "I think it's just his, ya know, his personality? I mean, I don't really know the guy _that_ well, but I just think he's kind of a hot head. _Temperamental_ , if ya know what I mean," he continued, attempting to wink, but failing miserably when both of his eyes closed instead of one.

Anna laughed in spite of everything, shaking her head as Glenn swayed once more, reaching for the wine bottle. "Oh, no, no, no," she quickly intervened, grabbing the bottle from Glenn's hand before he could take another sip.

"Hey!" he protested.

"You'll thank me in the morning — trust me," Anna grinned, setting the bottle aside as Glenn sighed dramatically.

"Probably right," he murmured under his breath before he started lightly slapping himself in the face in an attempt to sober up. "Why're ya askin' about Dixon, anyway?"

Anna exhaled heavily, blowing the air between her lips. "I don't know. Just curious, I guess," she sighed, not entirely lying, but not exactly telling the truth either.

Glenn hummed in thought. "Well, if you think Daryl's bad, you should've met his _brother_. Merle made Daryl seem like friggin' Mr. Rogers. "

Anna faltered, her fingers automatically coming up to trace the faint scar on her neck, the one she'd received from Merle's knife. "Oh, he had a brother?" she probed, playing dumb, hoping to get a little more information out of Glenn thanks to his intoxication.

Glenn scoffed, his jaw clenching at merely the thought of him. "Yeah — he was a real piece of work."

"What happened to him?" she asked, her curiosity piqued, still unclear about what exactly went down in Atlanta.

"So, a small group of us decided to make a run into the city for supplies, right? Well, Merle decided last minute to come along," Glenn paused, shooting Anna a foreboding look before continuing. "Anyways, we got, uh — well, we bumped into a herd in the city. And the geeks had us trapped in this department store, right? And Merle was — well, Merle was being _Merle_. Starting shit, getting high, drawing more attention to ourselves than necessary. And, you know, when we found Rick — hey, Rick's a cop, did you know that?"

Anna nodded. "Yeah, I kinda figured that from the uniform," she teased before motioning for him to continue.

"Well, Merle and T-Dog got into it while we were on the roof and Rick intervened and he — well, he handcuffed the dude to a pipe."

"Oh shit," Anna mumbled, piecing together the story from there.

"Yeah," Glenn nodded. "I mean, _I_ thought it was pretty badass," he suddenly grinned, before readjusting his baseball cap and getting serious again. "Anyways, things got — well, they got complicated. Everything happened so fast. We only had, like, three minutes to make an escape and I guess, uh — I guess T dropped the key to the cuffs somewhere on the roof and had to leave Merle behind."

Anna exhaled shakily, running a hand through her hair as she digested all of the new details.

"When Daryl found out, he was _pissed_ — even tried to knife Rick at one point, I think. Still, we went back for Merle. We _did._ But when we got to that roof…he was gone," Glenn continued, lowering his eyes.

"But — but how?" she questioned, confusion spreading over her features.

Glenn swallowed audibly, his skin paling and Anna wondered if it was from the alcohol or where the story was headed. Either way, a pit began to form in her stomach. "He, uh — he sawed off his hand. It was still sitting up there when we —" he faltered, looking as though he was moments from heaving.

" _Shit_ ," Anna murmured, feeling a bit queasy herself. Merle was a dangerous person — she'd learned that firsthand. But she wouldn't wish a fate like that upon _anyone_.

"Yup," Glenn mumbled, closing his eyes, wiping the sweat that had begun to form on his brow. "It sucked. Daryl flipped, Rick and T blamed themselves. Just a shitty situation all around. And then, we ran into _you_ on our way home from that."

Anna nodded slowly, the puzzle finally beginning to fit together. Maybe that was the reason Daryl had been so aggressive, holding his crossbow to her head and all when they met for the second time. He was probably all _kinds_ of fucked up after finding his brother's sawed-off hand. "So no one knows what happened to him?" she whispered softly.

Glenn shook his head. "Daryl found a trail and we tracked him for a bit — I mean, I guess he's alright 'cause he stole the truck we'd parked by the train tracks and took off. That's why we were hot-wiring your car — or, uh, you know. I mean, we didn't _know_ it was your car, we thought it was abandoned, but we saw it and, you know…" he began to fumble for the right words.

Anna held her hand up to stop his rambling. "No hard feelings."

Glenn smirked before nodding. "Anyways, that's what happened. We _thought_ he was heading back to camp to, you know, 'bring the wrath of God down on everyone'. But, he just kinda vanished. Haven't seen him since."

"But how could Merle just take off without his brother? That's kinda messed up," Anna shot back.

"Like I said, the guy was a piece of work. No one liked him. All he did was cause trouble at camp. Pretty sure Shane nearly killed him one or two times himself."

"So, why'd you guys keep him around for so long? Why not make him leave the group?" Anna inquired, hanging onto Glenn's every word — she knew once he sobered up, he'd probably be a little more hesitant to share. And on top of that, she was also just _genuinely_ curious as to why everyone put up with a man as awful as Merle Dixon.

Glenn sighed, searching for the right words. "He and Daryl were kinda — well, they were kinda a package deal. If we kicked Merle out, Daryl would've left too. And — even though he can be an asshole sometimes — Daryl's a good guy to have around when the world ends. He's a hunter, a tracker, can hold his own against the geeks — no one's ever said it aloud, but he's pretty crucial to the group."

Anna paused, mulling his words over for a moment.

"He's not a bad guy, you know," Glenn continued when Anna remained silent. "He's just got a lot of shit goin' on beneath the surface, I think," he sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly for a moment. "And you met him at a bad time — after everything with Merle and Atlanta and that big fight they got into, he's been in rare form."

Anna's brow furrowed at that last part, her gaze swiveling to meet Glenn's. "Big fight?" she questioned softly.

"It was _bad_ — you weren't around yet. The night before we left for Atlanta, before the whole 'roof and handcuffs' thing, Daryl and Merle went at it," Glenn explained, shaking his head.

"Why?" she pressed, steeling herself for the rest of the story.

"No idea," Glenn shrugged, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "The two of them had gone off earlier that day, said they were gonna go hunting and bring back something for dinner. But they came back empty-handed that night and Daryl seemed — I don't know, he seemed _weird._ Anyways, Merle made some smart ass comment about something and Daryl went _off_ — I'd never seen him so pissed."

Anna gnawed on her bottom lip for a moment before speaking. "About not finding any food?"

Glenn shrugged again. "I don't know — I don't think it was about dinner because he started cursing Merle out for ' _doin' some stupid shit ta' an innocent girl_ '," he grunted, attempting to impersonate the archer. "I guess they'd ran into another survivor and Merle had been screwing with her or something — got Daryl pretty riled up."

Anna felt her heart drop, the blood rushing from her face, unable to form any sort of response as her mind began to race.

But Glenn pushed forward, naive to Anna's distress as words continued to spill from his drunken lips. "Anyways, one of them started throwing punches, the other started fighting back — it was a mess. It took four of us to separate them. Daryl ended up storming away — said some shit to Merle and took off into the woods. Came back two days later but by then…" he trailed off, not needing to finish the sentence.

Anna felt her heart pounding against her ribcage as she absorbed what Glenn said — the circumstances were too coincidental, the timeline matching up…

"I mean, can you blame Daryl for the way he's acting? His brother's gone, probably _dead_ , and the last thing he ever said to him was ' _ya jus' a fuckin' waste a' space, a good-for-nothin' addict, jus' like dad'_ ," Glenn murmured, looking incredibly grim all of the sudden.

It dawned on Anna, clear as day, the truth of the current situation — there _was_ a reason for Daryl's hostility towards her. She'd apparently caused some sort of rift between the brothers and now, Daryl carried a weighted guilt regarding the cruel, final words he said to Merle — all because of _her_.

He _blamed_ Anna. That was the bottom line here.

She felt a wave of guilt wash through her — the rational side of her knew that she wasn't _truly_ at fault for anything. Merle had been the one who attacked her, not the other way around. If he'd just left her alone, if Daryl had never intervened, maybe the outcome of things would've been different. But a bigger part of her couldn't help but feel guilty for what had happened. Daryl _had_ to be hurting right now, wallowing in regret over what happened between him and Merle. But that pain had been shifted into anger and it was now directed at the only other person left involved in the situation — _her_.

There was one thing she still couldn't figure out — this could've _all_ been avoided. She hadn't _asked_ for Daryl's help that day on the road. He didn't have to interfere with Merle, but he _did_. He could've left her to fend for herself, could've left his brother to do whatever he wanted, but he _didn't_. He stepped in. He saved her life. So _why_? Why did he snap when Merle brought up their encounter later that night? What about Merle's words bothered Daryl so much that he chose to hurl those cruel insults at his brother? For _her_? For some random girl he didn't know? It wasn't adding up and Anna was feeling more confused than ever now.

Glenn suddenly groaned from beside her and she quickly snapped out of her thoughts, noticing the sickly green color he was turning. "Shit," she cursed, jumping to her feet. "Alright, come on, let's get you to your room," she murmured, reaching down to help him to his feet.

"I'm —" Glenn attempted to wave off her help, but paused, forcing back a gag as he groaned once more, hunching over.

"Oh, boy," Anna sighed, figuring this was bound to happen sooner or later. "C'mon," she grunted, hefting Glenn up from the stairs and wrapping her arm around his waist, draping his arm over her shoulders.

"I was fine," he grumbled, face scrunched up as the pair began making their way to the elevators. "Hit —" he paused to belch. "Hit me outta nowhere."

"I know, I know," Anna soothed, pressing the button to call the elevator to the main floor.

"Wine is the devil's juice," he whispered to himself and Anna had to fight back the grin creeping across her face.

"I know," she murmured once more, a soft laugh escaping her lips as the elevator doors opened up. "Just please don't puke on me."

Glenn nodded his head, swaying slightly. "I'm solid," he mumbled, giving her a thumbs up with his free hand, but the color in his face was fading fast. "Solid- _ish_."

Anna half-dragged, half-carried Glenn down hall after hall of the CDC, following his unsure directions back to his room — but her racing thoughts wouldn't allow her to focus. All she could think about was Daryl and Merle, the overwhelming guilt she felt, the hint of indignant anger that was brewing at the archer's somewhat misplaced blame.

She could understand Daryl being upset, being _remorseful_ about what happened between Merle and him — but that had been _his_ choice. _He_ said those hurtful things to his brother, _he_ chose to stand up for her and to now treat _her_ like shit because _he_ didn't want to take responsibility wasn't right. It wasn't _fair._

Anna wanted to talk to Daryl — she wasn't one to just let things remain unsettled. But was it really worth it? Would he be receptive to speaking with her about what happened? Would he accept an apology from her? She didn't think so — but, stranger things _had_ happened.

Glenn suddenly stumbled a bit to the side and Anna inhaled sharply, tightening her arm around his waist and steadying him. "Come on, Glenn. Help me out here," she grunted under his weight, struggling to keep him upright. She was only about two inches shorter than him, but at the moment, it felt as though she was maneuvering nothing but dead weight. Glenn mumbled an incoherent apology, doing his best to control his drunken limbs.

When Anna finally spotted the hallway lined with the rooms her group had dispersed into, she picked up her pace, quickly turning the corner. But it wasn't until she slammed into something solid that she realized she and Glenn weren't alone anymore.

Her head snapped up as she stumbled backward, futilely attempting to remain vertical, but with Glenn's added weight and her own fading intoxication, she felt the world suddenly tilt around her.

Right before she could hit the ground, a hand wrapped around her wrist and yanked her forward, causing her to once again stumble forward and collide into a solid chest. She quickly regained her balance and pulled away, glancing up at whoever had just caught her.

"Shane?" she murmured, slightly breathless as she took in the man before her.

"The hell ya two still doin' up?" he slurred, narrowed eyes darting between her and Glenn.

Anna's brow creased as she observed him. He was _wasted —_ body swaying from where he stood, eyes bloodshot and unfocused, sweat forming on his brow. And then she spotted three, bloody scratch marks on the side of his neck and felt a wave of caution roll through her. "Uh, Shane?" she spoke again, nodding towards his fingers that were still locked around her wrist.

"Oh," he murmured, releasing her hand and taking an unsteady step backward.

Anna rubbed her sore wrist, his grip having been vice-like, as she glanced over at Glenn who was now hugging the wall, groaning softly. "Damn it," she hissed, gently pulling him off the wall and slipping her arm around his back once more.

"Need some help?" Shane suddenly offered, but Anna quickly waved him off.

"We're good," she nodded, positive that Shane's drunkenness would only add to the problem. Anna quickly maneuvered herself and Glenn around Shane, hurrying towards where Glenn's room was. She could hear Shane's light footsteps following them down the hall and tried to ignore the nagging sensation in her gut telling her that something was _off_ with the man. "Okay, okay, we made it," Anna murmured in relief, finally reaching Glenn's doorway.

Glenn moaned softly as Anna slipped out from under his arm and pushed open his door. She glanced over her shoulder and spotted Shane just a couple feet behind, slowly making his way closer to them — there was something about his eyes that sent Anna's nerves into overdrive, the way they were locked onto her gaze, like a predator stalking its prey.

"You okay from here?" Anna turned her attention back to Glenn, wanting nothing more than to get back to the safety of her own room.

Glenn nodded, cupping an arm around his stomach. "Hey, thank —" he paused, his eyes suddenly going wide as he forced back another gag before abruptly hurrying inside, slamming the door shut behind him.

Anna scoffed as she heard the muffled sounds of Glenn beginning to throw up whatever was left in his stomach from inside his room. "Kid's a damn lightweight, don't ya think?" Shane suddenly spoke from beside her.

She jerked her head in his direction, subconsciously taking a small step back. A nervous laugh bubbled out of her. "Yeah, poor guy," she nodded as an uncomfortable silence formed. When Shane's glossy eyes began to wander, Anna took that as her cue to leave. "Well, I'm gonna head to bed," she murmured, her gut screaming at her to stop being polite and just _leave_.

"Well, I'll walk ya back ta' your room then," Shane took a step forward, an easy smile slipping over his features as he ran a hand through his tousled, dark hair.

"Oh, it's alright," Anna immediately waved him off, moving past him. "I'm just down the hall. Goodnight," she dismissed coolly, turning to walk away from the man.

But soon enough, Anna heard him follow.

Shane fell in step beside her, _despite_ her rejection, and simply shrugged when she gave him a confused look. "My room's down here too," he murmured — but for some odd reason, Anna found his explanation hard to believe.

That same uncomfortable silence washed over the hallway as Anna hurried down the hall, desperate to escape Shane's roaming gaze. She snuck a glance at him once she felt his eyes leave her, observing the three, long scratch marks on his neck — they were _fresh_ , she realized, the faint trace of blood still moist around them. His expression was serious, pensive, like he was lost somewhere in his mind, unaware of anything else besides his churning thoughts.

Anna stopped at her door, quickly reaching for the handle as Shane halted next to her. He leaned casually against the doorframe, giving her a brief once-over before focusing all of his attention on her once more. She cleared her throat, wanting the awkward encounter to be over and done with. "Alright, well, I guess I'll see you —"

"Ya clean up real nice. Anyone ever tell ya that?" Shane suddenly emphasized, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a smirk as his eyes wandered over her face.

Anna scoffed lightly, a tight smile slipping across her lips as she shrugged. "Well, I guess showering does that to a person."

Shane paused, looking as though he was trying to digest her humor before a deep laugh rumbled out of him. "You're funny," he chuckled, wagging a finger at her.

Anna forced out a small laugh, shrugging once more before reaching for the door handle again. "Goodnight, Shane," she murmured, attempting a second exit.

But before she was able to turn the knob, Shane quickly snaked his fingers around her wrist once more, holding her in place. Her head snapped in his direction, his face now mere inches from hers, close enough where she could smell the overwhelming scent of liquor on his breath. A shaky breath escaped her lips as he tightened his hold around her wrist. "Stay," he murmured, dark eyes glinting dangerously. "Have a drink with me."

Anna's gaze narrowed. "No, I'm good. Thanks," she retorted curtly.

"Oh, c'mon," he scoffed, that easy smile slipping over his features once more — but it only unsettled Anna further. "One drink — that's all."

"I said no," she reiterated sharply. "Besides, I think you've had enough," she hissed lowly, refusing to let the man pressure her.

Shane laughed once more, but this time, it came out sounding much more… _malicious_. "Well, look at you," he whistled, leaning in even closer. "There ya go, bein' _funny_ again," he snarled the word 'funny', his tone suddenly sounding much more sinister suddenly.

"Enough, Shane. Let go," Anna demanded, trying to pull out of his grasp — but he only tightened his grip further and she winced as the bones in her wrist rubbed together.

"Don't try an' tell me ya don't want this," he sneered, the intensity of his words sending a chill through Anna's bones. "I've seen the way ya been lookin' at me."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Anna snapped, feeling a mixture of confusion and dread course through her. "Let go — you're _hurting_ me," she urged, pushing down the panic threatening to take over.

In the next instance, Anna watched Shane's expression go dark and before she could process what was happening, he released her wrist and wrapped his fingers around her arms, pulling her away from her door and slamming her into the wall beside it instead. She gasped from the impact, feeling some of the air escape her lungs from the force of it, the back of her head banging against the drywall.

"Ya wanna know somethin'?" Shane pressed on, ignoring Anna's desperate struggle for release. "I am sick an' tired of you _women_ thinkin' y'all can jus' lead a man on for shit's an' fuckin' giggles —"

"Damn it, let go of me!" Anna cried out, pushing back against Shane — but he quickly overpowered her, digging his fingernails into the soft flesh of her arm and shoving her back against the wall. She flinched as his nails cut into her skin, his body now pressed up against hers, holding her firmly in place. "Shane —"

"Now, c'mon, it don't gotta be like this," he grunted, letting go of her arms and grabbing her wrists instead, holding them together with one hand. He used his other to push back the hair that had fallen over her face, ignoring the way Anna cringed under his touch. "Jus' relax, alright? Relax," he whispered gently, words slurred together, his breath hot against her neck as he leaned forward to brush his nose against the soft flesh of her throat.

Anna trembled under him, a soft cry escaping her lips at how helpless she felt, how _powerless._ He kept his free hand firmly on her hip, pressing his body securely against hers as he began trailing soft kisses up her neck. His hand then left her side, roaming freely up her body, evoking a sharp yelp from her — but Shane immediately clamped his hand over her mouth, silencing her desperate protests.

Anna squeezed her eyes shut, ignoring the burning sensation his lips had left against her flesh and felt a swell of rage suddenly burst out of her. "Stop!" she shouted, her cry muffled. But she used that brief moment of distraction to muster all the strength she could, ripping her hands from Shane's grip and shoving him away.

He stumbled backward, caught off guard at the sudden power shift — but quickly recovered and lunged at Anna once more, knocking her back against the wall before she had the chance to move out of his path. There was a brief moment of struggle, Anna using all the energy she had left to combat against Shane's attack — but within seconds, she found herself pinned against the wall once more, Shane's hands suddenly snaking their way around her neck before…

"Hey!" a gruff voice suddenly bellowed.

And that's when Anna saw him.

Daryl stood a few doors down, eyes narrowed into slits, fiery gaze locked onto Shane's. The archer's hands were balled into fists at his sides, chest heaving, expression threatening as a low growl rumbled out of him. Anna had never seen him so furious, so enraged, so…so downright _scary_.

His gaze flashed towards her, his expression faltering for a moment as he took in her terrified state. But then a steeliness washed over him as his sights zeroed back in on Shane, an intense wrath like she'd never seen before washing over his features.

Then, without another word, Daryl cocked his head, tightened his fists, and like the swelling of a raging storm, began stalking his way down the hall, headed directly for Shane.

* * *

 _ **A/N :** Oh shit. Daryl Dixon is not happy._

 _Well, we finally got some answers as to why Daryl's been acting the way he has around Anna. Did anyone see that coming?!_

 _I'm loving Glenn and Anna's budding friendship, also!_

 _And Shane. Ugh. LOOK. Like I've said previously, I liked Shane's character. BUT. This is around the time he started spiraling - and when he drank, he lost control. (Remember his encounter with Lori?) I'm not trying to turn his character into some horrible, twisted version of himself - this was simply how I interpreted him and something I could see him doing._

 _ANYWAYS. NEXT WEEK. It's a Daryl/Anna chapter…they'll finally share a moment together._ _FINALLY._

 _ **QUESTION OF THE WEEK :** Do you empathize with Daryl and understand why he's been acting the way he has towards Anna? Or do you think he's being a little shit and needs to accept responsibility for his fight with Merle instead of blaming Anna?_


	15. Chapter 15

_**Author's Note:** GUYS. THIS CHAPTER. OH MAN. It truly took on a life of its own. Also I'm changing my posting days to SUNDAYS now that The Walking Dead is on hiatus!_

* * *

Anna could only watch, paralyzed with fear from where she stood, as Daryl approached in rapid succession, the tension radiating off him nearly palpable.

Shane immediately released his hold on Anna, allowing her body to slump against the wall as he retreated, gaze widening as Daryl closed the distance between them. He held his hands up in front of him, wobbling unsteadily from the alcohol running through his veins. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, now take it easy —"

"What the fuck are ya doin'? Huh?" Daryl growled, storming past Anna without a second glance, roughly shoving Shane backward.

Shane nearly lost his balance, grabbing onto the wall to steady himself as he fumbled to remain vertical, shaking his head quickly. "Man, it ain't like that. It ain't what it looked —"

"Bullshit," Daryl snapped harshly, puffing his chest out as he approached Shane once more, standing toe to toe with him, his fists twitching at his sides. "It's _exactly_ what it fuckin' looked like."

Shane glanced over at Anna as if he _actually_ thought she'd step in and take some of the heat off him. But when Anna merely shrank back against the wall, fingertips ghosting over where his hands had closed around her neck, unable to form even a sound, Shane just shook his head as if _he_ couldn't even explain what had come over him.

Daryl suddenly brought his hands up and shoved Shane backward once more. "Don't look at _her_ , look at _me_!" he roared, positioning himself in between Anna and Shane, blocking her from his view. "I should fuckin' kill ya right now," he snapped, chest heaving as he bounced back and forth on his toes, seemingly seconds from losing what little restraint he had left.

"Relax, alright?" Shane bit back, some of that inherent bravado seeping back through him as he stood a little taller. "We were jus' messin' around. Ain't that right, Anna?" the words spilled from his lips, the honesty in his tone alarming — like he'd somehow convinced himself that _that_ was what had happened here. When Anna remained silent, still unable to find her voice amidst the chaos and panic she was becoming enveloped in, Shane persisted. "C'mon, Anna, we were jus' —"

Before the rest of Shane's sentence could leave his lips, Daryl had had enough. He snapped, lunging forward and grabbing Shane by the collar of his shirt, slamming him against the wall opposite of Anna. The force of the collision shook the hallway and Anna quickly pushed off against the wall, wondering whether she should try to break up the altercation before it escalated or lock herself away in her room. But for some reason, she still couldn't seem to find the energy to even move, to speak, to do _anything_ besides stand there in a state of shock.

"I should fuckin' kill ya right now," Daryl growled once more, pushing his forearm up against Shane's throat.

Shane attempted to wriggle free, his fingers latching around Daryl's wrists, his face turning a deep shade of red as he sputtered beneath the archer's crushing hold. After a moment, Daryl scoffed under his breath and pulled his forearm away, Shane gasping for air briefly as Daryl grabbed two fistfuls of his shirt instead. A tense silence hovered between the two men as they stared one another down before Shane suddenly spoke. "Ya know what, man — ya gotta do what ya gotta do," he croaked, voice hoarse, expression oddly intrigued.

Daryl didn't say anything, his breath coming out in heavy huffs as he stared down Shane with distrustful eyes, unsure what to make of the man he had pinned against the wall.

" _Kill me_ ," Shane challenged, the corner of his lips quirking up into some sort of sinister grin. "Do it, c'mon," he urged, his hands dropping from Daryl's wrists, swinging at his sides instead. "Let's see how long ya last in this group after that."

Anna watched Daryl pull back a fraction, his head cocking to the side ever so slightly as Shane's words registered.

"Ya really think Rick's gonna keep your hillbilly ass 'round after ya kill his best friend in cold fuckin' blood?" Shane scoffed, shrugging beneath Daryl's grasp. "Let's see how long ya last out there on your own, tough guy," he mocked, his voice dimming to a whisper. "Ya know what'll happen? Ya jus' gonna disappear…ya jus' gonna _vanish_. Ain't no one ever gonna see ya again, ain't no one even gonna _care_. You'll end up jus' like your piece of shit brother — jus' another dumbass redneck who got himself killed 'cause he didn't have nobody but nobody ta' watch his back."

Anna felt the first swell of emotion crash over her since the incident, knocking her back to reality as a weighted wave of fury washed through her veins. "You son of a —" she growled, taking a step forward but Daryl saw her approaching from the corner of his eye and quickly held out one hand towards her, stopping her movement.

He glanced over his shoulder at her, the pair locking eyes for a moment and Anna saw something buried deep in his gaze that she'd never seen before — it was far beneath the layers of anger and caution that usually marred his eyes, but it was there — and it was _fear_.

But in the next instance, it was gone and Daryl was turning his attention back to Shane, tightening his grip on the man's shirt, pressing him more forcefully against the wall. "Ya ever lay another hand on her, it'll be the last damn thing ya ever do. We clear?" he snarled, voice low and threatening.

Shane's eyes narrowed before he started smirking. "Like I said, ya gotta do what ya gotta do, man," he sneered, shrugging beneath Daryl's grasp, a sort of delusional laugh slipping through his drunken lips.

Anna couldn't see Daryl's face from where she stood behind him, but a part of her figured that the archer was genuinely considering following through with his threat. But after a long moment of silence, Daryl scoffed, his shoulders tensing as he yanked Shane off the wall and shoved him away, the man roughly crashing to the ground. "Ain't even worth it," the archer spat, angrily waving him away while remaining rooted in front of Anna, still concealing her from his view.

Shane groaned softly, mumbling something under his breath as he unsteadily pulled himself off the floor and to his feet. He swayed slightly, shooting daggers in Daryl's direction, looking like he was considering fighting back. But a flash of something Anna couldn't quite interpret came across his face — maybe the realization that he didn't stand a chance against the archer while being as intoxicated as he was. So instead, he simply scoffed, shook his head, and turned around, stumbling down the hall and out of sight.

For a long moment, neither Anna nor Daryl spoke. They simply stood there, motionless, Anna's eyes trained on Daryl's back, thoughts far away as she tried to understand what the fuck just happened. She felt as though she'd stepped outside of herself for a moment — her mind simply shutting down in an effort to protect itself.

Anna squeezed her eyes closed, lowering her head and burying her face into her hands. She could still _feel_ him — his fingertips trailing her flesh, his warm breath ghosting across her neck, the stubble from his cheek rubbing against her throat as he pressed his lips to her skin. She should've listened to her gut, she should've stayed with Glenn, she should've fought back harder, she should've screamed louder, she should've never drank, she should've stayed in her room, she should've —

"Ya alright?" Daryl's quiet, gruff voice suddenly broke through her churning thoughts and she inhaled shakily, slowly raising her head.

His expression was pensive, watching her intently with guarded eyes. But there was softness in his gaze that wasn't there before.

Or maybe it was just _pity_.

Anna had the sudden urge to escape his scrutinizing eyes, everything that had happened simply too much to process at the moment. So instead of responding, she turned on her heels and shoved open the door to her room.

But the moment she made the move to step through the doorway, she froze, a jolt of unease shooting through her. What if Shane came back? There were a lot of places in this room to hide — what if he was already in there? The door didn't lock — how was she supposed to keep him out if he came back to finish what he started? The rooms were pretty spread out — would anybody be able to hear her if she screamed?

A tremble rocked through her as she exhaled shakily, lowering her head and squeezing her eyes shut. She slowly turned back around, gaze coming up to meet Daryl's who hadn't moved from where he stood. She didn't want to be alone right now — she _couldn't_ be alone right now. Anna felt her cheeks redden, humiliated at how _weak_ she felt and dropped her head once more, leaning against the doorway, crossing her arms over her chest.

There was a brief moment of silence where Anna closed her eyes, trapped in her thoughts as she struggled to come up with the right phrasing for what she was about to ask the archer.

 _Will you stay with me? No, that's too needy. Can I stay with you? No, that's too forward. Do you want to hang out? No. What the fuck? You're not fourteen-years-old. Just swallow your damn pride, Brooks,_ a nagging voice in her mind snapped at her.

Anna sighed, raising her head, her lips parting as she worked up the nerve to speak — but when she opened her eyes, the words crumpled in her throat as she spotted Daryl already having walked away, marching down the hall to his room before disappearing inside.

A tiny shred of dignity shriveled up inside of her as she pinched the bridge of her nose. Who was she kidding? So maybe he'd intervened and stopped Shane's advances — but he was still the same man with the same chip on his shoulder that he was earlier. Nothing had changed. Things were never going to change between them.

There was utterly _no_ point in bringing up the situation with Merle. She'd never be able to have a real conversation with Daryl — she'd never be able to smooth things over. It was just something she'd have to live with.

Just like she'd have to live with the memories of Shane's hands against her skin.

A shudder rocked through her as she exhaled, turning back around to face her room. Yet still, she couldn't find it in her to take that next step past the doorway — it was as though her feet had molded into the ground, as though the twisting roots of fear had snaked their way around her calves, holding her firmly in place and if she were to take a single step forward, she'd collapse and melt into the ground, never to be seen again.

Anna shook the haunting thoughts away, running a shaky hand through her hair as she glanced over her shoulder in the direction Shane had wandered off. She could've sworn if she looked hard enough down the darkened hallway, she could just make out his shadowy figure, waiting for her to trap herself within the confines of her room, determined to finish what he started and —

"We jus' gonna stand out here or…?"

Anna jumped and spun around, startled by a sudden gruff voice. Her gaze landed on Daryl, the man having made a reappearance at her side. Her brow furrowed, lips pursed, and she was about to ask what he was doing back out here — but then her eyes landed on the crossbow strapped across his back that wasn't there before.

Daryl fixed her with an impatient stare, glancing into her room pointedly before his gaze came back to settle on her as he slung his crossbow off his shoulder. A wave of realization washed over Anna and she fought back the lump that suddenly formed in her throat before silently motioning for him to enter the room. The archer didn't say anything, he simply clenched his jaw as if steeling himself for what he was about to do, as though he was heading into fucking _battle_ or something, and marched inside.

Anna trailed after him, her mind racing as she softly shut the door behind her, taking a moment to breathe and calm her sudden nerves before turning towards Daryl. He was standing in the middle of the room, crossbow in hand, body rigid as he looked _everywhere_ except at _her_. Anna leaned against the door, blowing a puff of air between her lips as she fought off the awkward tension expanding throughout the space.

She pushed away from the door, maneuvering herself around Daryl who _still_ stood in the middle of the closet-sized room and made her way towards the bed.

She didn't miss how the archer stiffened as she slipped by him.

Anna crawled onto the rickety cot, sitting cross-legged, her back pressed up against the wall and sighed, picking at a strand of string hanging off her shirt. She peeked up from under her lashes, taking in Daryl's uneasy stance — the way he shifted back and forth on his toes, the way his eyes darted around the room, the way he gnawed absently on the side of his thumbnail.

Anna exhaled once more, clearing her throat awkwardly. "You can sit if you want," she offered quietly.

"Nah," Daryl shot back without missing a beat. Anna rolled her eyes slightly, unsure if Daryl had even fully _heard_ her offer before shutting her down.

A sudden _creaking_ from outside had Anna's attention laser-focused on the door, her hand coming up to rest against her chest, the feeling of her heart slamming against her ribcage only furthering her anxiety. Daryl had perked up as well, turning his attention to the door, slightly raising his crossbow. But after a long moment, he relaxed, shaking his head as he turned back towards Anna. "Jus' the walls. Bein' underground an' all, things bound ta' shift," he mumbled quietly with a shrug.

Anna had a hard time believing his logic and pulled her knees to her chest, inching closer to the wall. "Maybe," she murmured, subconsciously clutching the chain around her neck with her parents' wedding rings looped through it. The necklace always used to bring her comfort — but now, all she felt was heartache. She missed her family. She missed her _brother_. She was stuck with a group of strangers who she knew nothing about and one of them just tried to — _No,_ that same nagging voice from before snapped at her. _Don't go there._

Anna let the necklace fall from her grasp.

Daryl watched her intently for another drawn-out moment, narrowing his eyes slightly as he took in her cowering form. "He ain't gonna bother ya no more," he suddenly spoke, words soft but fierce.

Anna forced her eyes away from the door, training them on the archer instead. "How'd you know?" she asked quietly, hating how meek she sounded — she hadn't felt this helpless since…hell, since her parents died, since she found out Ben was no longer in Atlanta. She couldn't shake the heaviness settling over her soul.

"I knew guys like that back before all this," he waved his hand around a little as he continued. "Thinkin' they're all tough as shit 'til someone comes 'round an' threatens ta' kick their teeth in. An' the prick knows he don't stand no chance — ' _specially_ 'cause he's shit-faced," he scoffed, words laced in disgust as he moved his gaze away Anna's, focusing elsewhere in the room.

Anna hummed, nodding her head absently as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Well, thank you — for doing what you did," she murmured, staring down at her hands, her fingertips toying with that string again.

"Ain't jus' gonna let him do that ta' ya," he rumbled so quietly Anna nearly missed it. When she glanced back up at the archer, he had turned on his heels and was slowly moving about the room, suddenly interested with inspecting the walls.

Anna couldn't help but feel a small smile toy at the corner of her lips as she lowered her gaze once more, wringing her hands together in her lap.

She peered up at Daryl while he had his back turned, watching as he slowly moved about the small room, stopping in front of a piece of abstract artwork that'd been hung on the wall. His head tilted to the side slightly as if he was trying to distinguish what the hell he was even looking at and Anna felt her smile grow at how innocent he seemed in that moment.

It was enough of a distraction that she almost forgot about the air of tension hanging between them. But soon after, those conflicting thoughts came weaseling back into the forefronts of her mind and Anna felt her lips turn into a frown as she lowered her gaze once more. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath — it was now or never. "I'm sorry," she managed to murmur, her words so quiet she was _positive_ Daryl couldn't have heard them.

But sure enough, the archer found a way to surprise her. "For what?" he grumbled back, genuine confusion in his tone.

Anna pursed her lips, unsure where to go from here. She began toying with the bandage wrapped around her left palm, sighing softly. "For, uh, for what happened — for what happened between you and Merle," she fumbled for the right wording, scratching the side of her head as she slowly glanced up.

Daryl didn't respond, still facing the wall opposite her — but she watched his entire body go stiff as a board. She wasn't even sure she could hear him breathing anymore. After a prolonged silence fell throughout the room, Anna couldn't take the quiet, determined to make things right with the archer once and for all.

"Look, I never meant to get between you two. I never meant to start any shit — I hope you know that," Anna began to ramble, addressing the back of Daryl's head since he was keen on remaining rooted where he was. "And I understand if you hate me or — I don't know, _blame_ me, or something…I get it, Daryl, I do. I just —" she broke off, exhaling heavily, at a loss for words. "Shit, I don't know. I just wanted to say that I'm _sorry_. I'm _so_ sorry."

Anna waited with bated breath for a response, for a nod, for _anything_ — any inkling that what she'd just confessed had been heard and all she was met with was _stillness._

She felt her face redden, her body burning with humiliation and she debated for a second on whether or not to just lay down and hope sleep would come to rescue her from this horribly uncomfortable interaction.

But before she could think any further, Daryl suddenly spoke. "Your brother wasn't in Atlanta."

Anna faltered.

Out of _anything_ the archer could've responded with, that wasn't even in the _realm_ of what Anna had been expecting. It wasn't a question either — he hadn't been _asking_ if her brother was in Atlanta. It was a statement. Period. Point blank.

"Uh, no," she finally mustered, brows furrowed. "No, he wasn't," she murmured, watching the back of Daryl's head move up and down as he nodded silently in return, still facing the wall. She'd only ever mentioned her brother _once_ to the archer — that day she first met him on the road. It'd been brief, only in passing, when he'd asked her why she was headed towards Atlanta in the first place. She couldn't believe he'd even _remembered_ such a brief detail. "Not much of a surprise, though," she continued when he didn't acknowledge her answer. "The entire city's gone. Figured the same would go for Ben."

Daryl grunted under his breath — Anna figured it was in agreement.

"He left me a note, though," she carried on, pushing herself off the bed quickly, the mattress _creaking_ under her weight as she grabbed her backpack sitting on the trunk at the end of the bed. "I found it in his apartment. He'd left it for me to find — he knew I'd make it there," she rambled on as she searched for where she'd left the note. Her fingers brushed against the crumpled piece of paper and she pulled it from the side pocket of her backpack, along with the photograph she'd taken as well.

She took a moment to reread her brother's words, feeling her heart ache at the sight of his messy handwriting.

 _A,_

 _The military's evacuating the city. If you're reading this, that means you guys made it to Atlanta… god, I hope you're reading this. It's not safe here. Not anymore._ _I'm okay, sis. I'll stay as long as I can. But if you find this note, I left for the Fort Benning_ _refugee center. Some people are saying it's already been overrun by whatever the fuck's happening out there — but I don't know_ _where else to go. So I'm gonna try for Benning — I'll wait there for you. Take care of mom and dad. Please be safe, Annie. Please be okay._

 _I love you, sis._

 _\- B_

Anna sighed softly, moving to run her fingertips over the glossy picture of Ben and herself, arms tossed around each other's shoulders, smiling wide, mid-laugh. It was one of the few pictures they'd ever taken together and now, it was the only one left. She forced back the tears threatening to swell and slowly approached Daryl, who finally turned his attention away from the wall and onto her instead.

His expression was stony and unreadable as she held out the contents in her hand towards him. He slung his crossbow over his shoulder and took the note, studying the scrawl, eyes trailing back and forth as he read Ben's words for himself. He grunted under his breath, an eyebrow quirking slightly, and Anna wondered which part it was he'd read that elicited that small response from him.

Daryl then slid the photograph out from behind the paper, bringing it closer to his face, studying it intently. Anna watched his expression carefully, the way his eyes trailed over both her and Ben's faces, the corner of his mouth quirking up for a moment before resuming its permanent scowl. Then, his deep blue gaze peeked up at her, studying her features for a moment.

Anna felt her breath catch in her throat, her cheeks feeling hot all of the sudden when she realized just how close their faces were and subconsciously took a small step backward. Daryl didn't shift, instead just holding her stare for a moment longer before he spoke. "Ya've got his eyes," he rumbled, voice deep in his chest.

Anna felt a small smile slip across her face as she lowered her gaze, nodding absently. "Yeah. Yeah, I do," she murmured quietly as Daryl finally looked away and switched back to studying the note.

He glanced up at her after rereading Ben's letter for the second time. "Fort Benning?"

Anna nodded quickly. "That's where he was heading. That's where _I_ was heading until — well until I ran into _you_ again," she shrugged. "This shit-hole is a dead end. I think the army base might be different."

Daryl was silent for a moment, eyes pensive as he mulled over her words. "Probably ain't gonna find much there either," he rumbled, glancing down at the note once more. "Refugee centers, army bases, those are the first places ta' get hit. Got too many people ta' take care of, too many chances for somethin' ta' spread."

Anna crossed her arms over her chest, a look of confusion spreading across her face. "When I first met you, back on the road, you told me your group was heading to Fort Benning. _You_ said that. Now you're saying —"

"That was before we knew 'bout the CDC. If _this_ place didn't make it, Benning's probably burnt ta' the ground."

Anna flinched at his bluntness, a pinprick of anger coursing through her veins. "We don't know that," she snapped. "My brother, he said — look, he said —" she grabbed the note back from Daryl, masking the desperation in her voice as she pointed to a specific line of text. " _I'm gonna try for Fort Benning — I'll wait there for you_ ," she read off the paper, looking pointedly up at Daryl afterward. "Ben's _there_."

Daryl shook his head, snagging the note from Anna's hands, directing her attention to a different line with his finger. " _Some people are saying it's already been overrun_ ," he recited Ben's words gruffly. "It probably _was_. Safest bet is ta' stay off the main roads, find somewhere off the grid for all a' us ta' hole up in for a while."

"I'm not just gonna leave my brother out there!" Anna fired back, placing a hand on her hip. "I told Rick I'd come to the CDC, but if it was a dead end — which it _is_ — then I was leaving for the army base. So _that's_ what I need to do."

"Benning's more than a hundred miles from here —"

"And Rick told me the group would be heading that way next if the CDC fell through which —"

"He ain't gonna drag his family a hundred miles across Georgia on a _hunch,_ " Daryl shot back.

"Well, then I'll just go by myself and —"

"Ain't gonna make it on your own," Daryl shot back resolutely, a hint of smugness washing over his features like he was _so_ sure of himself.

Anna cocked her head, unsure where and when this conversation took a turn. "I made it this far, didn't I?"

"Barely," he grunted, rolling his eyes a bit.

Anna scoffed in disbelief, at a loss for words. So instead, she shook her head incredulously. "Such a prick," she mumbled under her breath before snatching the note from the archer's hands and storming towards her bed.

"What'd ya jus' say ta' me?" he suddenly growled, quickly approaching her.

"You heard me," Anna snapped, spinning around to face him as she shoved the note and photograph back into her pack and threw it onto the bed. "You're a _prick_ , Daryl! Do you want me to spell it out for you?" she bit out sarcastically.

Daryl's expression turned even colder than usual as he took a step calculating step towards her, shoulders back, fists twitching at his sides as he towered over her. "Ya better watch what ya —"

"You know, I have tried _countless_ times to figure you out and you know what? There's no fucking point!" Anna bulldozed over his attempts to speak, having reached her breaking point with the archer. "At first I thought this was about Merle — you know, Glenn told me about your little brawl, about all that shit you said to your brother — and I thought, ' _Okay, maybe Daryl_ blames _me for the fight._ ' But then, you save my life, you go up against Shane for me, you give me your fucking _dinner_ , and I think, ' _Okay, maybe he_ doesn't _blame me. Maybe he blames_ himself _and instead of dealing with his fucking issues, he's taking shit out on_ me _.'_ But that's not it either, is it?" the words were spewing out of Anna now, all of her pent-up frustration regarding how Daryl had been treating her, her altercation with Shane, the reality that Fort Benning could be _gone_ coming to a head. "You want to know what I think? I think you're just a _prick_!"

Anna's words echoed throughout the small confines of the room as she and Daryl stood toe to toe, neither backing off, their breaths coming out in rapid huffs as they stared one another down. Daryl's eyes flickered back and forth, narrowing slightly as he digested her words. His expression became stone-like, no hint of that subtle warmness she could usually detect in his gaze — there was nothing but utter _contempt_ now.

Anna knew she was lashing out — probably more harshly than she'd intended to, but Daryl's belief that Fort Benning was gone, meaning _Ben_ was most likely gone, had riled up a raging fire inside of her that took on a life of its own.

"That really what ya think a' me?" Daryl suddenly growled, his tone flat and emotionless but his eyes spoke an entirely different story.

Anna took a breath, tilting her chin up, a slightly baffled look crossing her features. "What the hell else have you shown me otherwise?" she enunciated each word clearly, directly, almost daring him to try and explain himself.

But Daryl merely shook his head, shooting her a deploring look before turning on his heels and storming towards the door. He grabbed the handle and yanked it open, pausing for a moment, one foot already rooted in the hallway. Anna half-expected the archer to spin back around and curse her out, to scream at her, to fight _back_. But when he spoke, his words were unexpectedly soft. "It's too damn far, Anna," he rumbled, his eyes glued to the floor. "Ya ain't gonna make it."

Anna wasn't sure why he cared so much, wasn't sure why he did _any_ of the things he did, quite frankly. But as she saw it, she'd already ruined whatever chance of reconciliation there was between her and the archer — there was no going back, there was no quieting the pain and frustration that'd been unleashed. "Just because you gave up on your brother, doesn't mean I'm giving up on mine," she voiced, her words barely above a whisper.

Daryl's gaze snapped up, locking with hers, a flash of something that vaguely resembled _hurt_ flickering through his eyes and Anna felt a pang of remorse shoot through her chest. But then, without another word, Daryl walked out, the force of him slamming the door shut behind him shaking the walls.

And then Anna was alone, the fear of the unknown, the fear of what waited for her down that darkened hallway creeping back in as she was left with nothing but a heavy heart and her guilt-ridden thoughts.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** God damn it, Anna. That was a low blow. _

_So. Real talk. I had an entirely different vision for this chapter, but I swear y'all, this story took on a mind of its own. I'm happy with how it turned out, but also pissed because I just want DARYL AND ANNA TO LOVE EACH OTHER, DAMN IT. But...this is a slow-burn. And slow-burn it shall be._

 _ **QUESTION OF THE WEEK:** Do you think Anna went too far? Do you think her reaction was warranted? Do you see a chance for reconciliation between Anna and Daryl in the near future?_


	16. Chapter 16

_**Author's Note :** SO. This chapter's a bit long. Most of this is my own original writing but I did use a couple scenes from the show to propel the story forward. I know a lot of you are upset at Anna for what she said (and, like, same) but hopefully there'll be enough time for her to mend things. Hopefully…_

* * *

Anna tossed and turned all night.

She couldn't get the image of hurt that flashed across Daryl's face from her mind, only intensifying the guilt swallowing her whole. When had things gone so wrong between them? She'd honestly thought they were making decent progress — even when the archer _blatantly_ ignored her apology regarding what happened with Merle, but then…but then _Ben_ happened.

Daryl's bluntness, his utter _certainty_ that Fort Benning was gone, that _Ben_ was gone, had riled up a deep-rooted anger inside of Anna lying far beneath the surface. The only reason — the _only_ reason — she had lasted as long as she had, the _only_ reason she hadn't put a bullet in her brain yet was that of her belief that one day she'd find her brother again. That small shred of hope had been the only thing keeping Anna alive, the only thing driving her to continue to fight each day.

Otherwise, what the _fuck_ was the point in her being here? She had _no_ _one_. No family, no friends, no future — if Ben was dead, what was the point of any of this?

Anna sighed, turning onto her back, staring up at the darkened ceiling as she futilely attempted to fight off the overwhelming surge of emotion coming over her.

What if Daryl was right? What if Fort Benning was gone? What if Ben was gone? Anna wasn't stupid — she knew the probability that her brother hadn't survived the outbreak was vastly higher than the likelihood he was still out there. But it hadn't stopped her from believing deep down that he was still alive, searching for her the same way she'd been searching for him. The fact of the matter was this — unless Anna found a body, she'd never stop looking. She'd never find peace, never move on, until she was _one hundred percent_ sure her brother was dead. And then…well, what the fuck else did she have to live for?

Anna huffed a breath, wiping at a stray tear that suddenly snaked down the side of her face before draping one arm over her eyes.

Still, no matter her _personal_ feelings, Daryl hadn't deserved to take the brunt of her outburst. It had just been too much all at once — the trauma from Shane's attack, the lack of answers at the CDC, Daryl's certitude that the army base was destroyed.

But that comment…that comment she'd made about Daryl giving up on Merle — now _that_ had been a low blow. _Just because you gave up on your brother, doesn't mean I'm giving up on mine._ The words had just tumbled from her lips before she could stop them and she wasn't even really sure _why_ — it wasn't like she _believed_ those words, it wasn't like that was how she really _felt_. So why had she said it? Why had those words slipped off the tip of her tongue without a second thought? A small part of her thought that maybe she just wanted to hurl a cruel enough insult that would make Daryl hurt the same way his obvious animosity had hurt _her_.

But it didn't matter anymore — any reconciliation between her and the archer was a pipe dream at this point. They clearly weren't meant to coexist civilly and that was something she was just going to have to accept.

Anna wasn't sure why the thought suddenly brought another spout of tears to her eyes.

She groaned, turning over onto her side, pulling the sheet draped over her towards her chin as she snuggled deeper against the bumpy cot, praying for sleep to take her away from her churning thoughts. But no matter what, no matter how many sheep she counted, no matter how many times she counted backward from one hundred, her mind simply would not _quiet_.

Images of Daryl's wounded expression would morph into Shane's sinister grin and greedy hands, which would then shift into gnarled fingers and hungry groans. The contorted, decaying features of the dead would soon twist into flashes of her brother's eyes, the light from within them dimming as blood-soaked teeth sunk into soft flesh, a spine-chilling scream drowning out the sound of skin being ripped from bone…

Anna hadn't realized the scream was coming from her until she suddenly woke in a panic, sweat-slicked and panting, sheets twisted around her limbs as she jolted upright.

That was how the rest of the night went — every time sleep would come, nightmares would follow, allowing only a brief moment of relief until her dreams were ravaged by the dead.

She entirely gave up after realizing sleep would bring no peace.

So Anna laid in bed, memorizing every inch of the CDC's ceiling above her as her fingers drummed anxiously against her stomach, her consuming thoughts forcing her to become a prisoner within the confines of her own mind. She had no grasp of time — she was underground, her room was windowless, the clocks didn't work. It wasn't until she heard the soft murmur of voices in the hallway that she decided to drag herself out of bed, determined to figure out just what in the hell she was going to do next.

She sighed as she swung her legs off the side of the flimsy cot, rubbing her eyes tiredly. Her limbs felt heavy, the back of her head aching and she absently rubbed the sore spot from where her head had banged against the wall during Shane's attack.

A shiver ran through her bones at the thought of seeing him today — would he remember what he did? Would he be remorseful? Would he pretend like nothing happened?

Anna slowly stood, taking a moment to stretch out her weary bones, her joints creaking in protest. The collective voices in the hall began to grow and she figured the rest of the group was just waking, most likely heading to meet in the cafeteria to determine where to go from here. She dragged herself into the bathroom and turned on the light, shielding her eyes from the fluorescent bulbs glaring down on her.

She tried her best to ignore her reflection as she combed the knots from her hair and brushed her teeth — but she'd catch small glimpses of herself every so often and feel that pit in her stomach grow. She looked like _shit_ — too tired and too hollow, looking well beyond her age of just twenty-seven. The dark circles beneath her worn eyes had worsened, her guilt and worry practically sucking the life out of her from the outside in.

Unable to stand the sight of herself for any longer, Anna shoved away from the mirror with a huff and stalked out of the bathroom. She dug through her pack for the clothes Carol had washed at the quarry before they'd departed, slipping into a pair of jeans along with a white tank top and flannel. It wasn't until she began rolling up the sleeves of her flannel that she noticed the bruising — faint traces of discoloration marred her wrists from where Shane had grabbed her, the blueish tint outlining his fingertips pressed into her skin.

Anna felt a wave of nausea roll through her and quickly rolled her sleeves back down, covering the markings before pulling on her boots and hurrying out the door. It felt as though the air was being sucked out of her lungs, like the walls around her were slowly closing in and she suddenly became desperate to leave the increasingly claustrophobic confines of her room along with the memories it held.

She shut the door behind her, pausing for a moment to close her eyes and take a deep breath, waiting until her breathing returned to normal before navigating her way to the cafeteria. The halls were empty — _quiet —_ and Anna held back the urge to press her ear against Daryl's door as she passed, a part of her wanting to know if he was still inside or if he'd already joined up with the group. But she forced herself to keep walking, eyes darting around nervously, feeling as though she'd turn a corner and find Shane lurking around.

Anna faltered for a moment, the overwhelming smell of something being cooked drawing her towards the double doors that led to the cafeteria. She spotted most of the group sitting around the same table they'd sat at last night, some feasting, others milling about — there was something eerily _normal_ about the sight and Anna took a moment to memorize the scene, unsure when she'd see something so _calm_ again.

She slipped through the doors, her eyes immediately landing on Shane who sat silently, almost _sullenly_ , as he stared down at the cup of coffee he held in his hands. His eyes flittered up at the sound of the doors swinging open, nearly doing a double-take when he realized it was _Anna_ who'd walked into the room.

Anna leveled his stare coldly, feeling a jolt of unease wash through her, but she did her best to remain steadfast in her glare. Shane clenched his jaw, his eyes no longer narrowed and sinister but _troubled_ , exhausted as he eventually lowered his gaze and tightened his grip around the styrofoam cup, rubbing his other hand over his weary face.

"Mornin', Brooks," Rick's voice suddenly broke through the air and Anna's eyes fell on the sheriff sitting beside his family. Lori glanced up, shooting a tight smile in her direction before she went back to picking apart a small piece of bacon. There was something _off_ about her —something about her expression, the apprehensiveness in her eyes that Anna couldn't quite place.

But she pushed away her concern and made her way towards the table, shaking off her nerves. "Morning, Officer," she greeted, sending a small salute in Rick's direction as she took a seat beside Jacqui and Glenn.

"How'd you sleep, sweetie?" Jacqui murmured to Anna, a soft smile tracing her pretty features as she soothingly rubbed Glenn's back.

Anna cleared her throat, scooting her chair closer to the table. "Uh, good. Yeah, fine," she shrugged, the lie slipping seamlessly through her lips as she grabbed an untouched glass of orange juice from the middle of the table. "How about you?" she asked quietly, taking a small sip of the tangy beverage.

"Much better than poor Glenn, here," Jacqui grinned, eliciting a small groan from Glenn who sat hunched over his plate of food.

"Did I already tell you to never let me drink again?" he mumbled, his eyes closed as he swayed slightly in his seat. "Because don't ever, ever, _ever_ let me drink again."

Anna scoffed lightly, feeling the hint of a smile play at the corner of her lips despite the growing turmoil inside her. "Whatever you say, Glenn. Whatever you say," she teased, scooping a small portion of eggs and two strips of bacon onto her plate.

Jacqui squeezed Glenn's shoulders comfortingly before excusing herself from the table, leaving to grab herself a cup of coffee. Anna sighed as she grabbed a fork, pushing the food around her plate absently — the churning pit in her stomach had depleted any appetite she'd previously had, the overwhelming guilt she felt gnawing on her insides instead.

Daryl's absence from the table was glaringly obvious — she wondered if anyone else noticed his not being there as well.

Anna knew she needed to apologize for what she said — but she'd already tried once before to make things right with the archer and look how that turned out. Daryl probably wanted nothing to do with her after that cruel comment she made and she didn't blame him for that.

"Did I, uh," Glenn's grumble drew her from her thoughts. "Did I puke on you last night?" he murmured, tilting his head towards her.

Anna quirked a smile, rolling her eyes slightly. "No, no you didn't," she grinned, patting his shoulder gently. "Thanks for that, by the way."

"Good," Glenn sighed with relief, looking a bit ashamed. "That would've been awkward."

Anna scoffed, nudging him playfully before taking a small bite of eggs, hating the way they settled so uneasily in her stomach. She huffed a breath, shoving her plate away and leaning back in her chair. She couldn't eat — her gut was twisted in knots, coiled with tension, a nagging sensation coursing through her veins that she needed to do something.

She needed to find Daryl. She needed to make things _right_.

But then suddenly, as if on cue, the cafeteria doors swung open and in stormed none other than _Daryl_ himself. Anna faltered, watching his eyes do a quick sweep of the room, ghosting over her completely before settling on the array of food amongst the table. She felt all the breath leave her lungs as he marched forward, grumbling an incoherent greeting to T-Dog who held out a pan of freshly cooked powdered eggs towards him.

His expression was stony, _detached_ almost, as he helped himself to a large spoonful of eggs and emptied them onto a stray plate. He made his way around the table, using his hand to scoop up a clump of eggs before tossing them into his mouth, hungrily licking the excess remnants off his fingertips.

The archer didn't acknowledge Anna — didn't acknowledge _anyone_ , for that matter — instead, moving to the opposite side of the room, leaning against one of the pillars as he picked up another handful of eggs and dumped them into his mouth.

Anna felt another intense wave of guilt wash over her and quickly pushed up from the table, drawing the attention of those around her before they drifted back to their private conversations. "Where you goin'?" Glenn asked tiredly, glancing up at her.

"To, uh," she mumbled, racking her brain for an answer before she spotted the empty pitcher of juice on the table and immediately reached for it. "To grab some more OJ for the table," she fibbed, shooting Glenn a forced smile as she made her leave, willing herself not to look back at Daryl as she left. She couldn't face him. She couldn't do it. Not after everything he'd done for her — saving her life, intervening with Shane — she didn't _deserve_ his forgiveness.

Jenner was entering the cafeteria as Anna was exiting, sending her a short nod as he passed. "Good morning," he addressed the rest of the group, a collective murmur of greetings echoing from behind her as she pushed through the doors and made her way into the hallway.

Her grip tightened around the empty pitcher in her hand — what the fuck was wrong with her? Why couldn't she just own up to her mistake and _apologize_ to the man? Why was she so afraid of his reaction? Or maybe it wasn't his _reaction_ she was afraid of…maybe it was the inevitability of a _lack_ thereof _._

"Coward," Anna muttered to herself, shaking her head in frustration as she made her way down the hall.

She entered the small, dingy kitchen, setting the pitcher down on the counter and opening the refrigerator. The least her good-for-nothing-ass could do was bring the group some more juice.

Anna spotted a container of OJ on the top shelf and grabbed it, pulling it out of the fridge and turning it over in her hands — how the CDC managed to keep all this food from spoiling was beyond her. She figured since Jenner had been the last man standing, food was plentiful, but soon enough, time would run its course and even the fortress that had once been the CDC would fall victim to decay.

Sighing softly, Anna shut the door to the fridge and spun around.

When she realized she was no longer alone in the kitchen, she nearly jumped out of her skin, the container of juice almost slipping through her fingertips before she caught it, feeling her heart begin to slam against her ribcage.

"Shane," she breathed shakily, her eyes widening as she took a small step backward.

The man who had attacked her the night before now stood between her and the door to the hallway, his hands out in front of him as if to prove he meant no harm. "Anna —"

"Stay the hell away from me," Anna growled, holding a hand out towards him warily. "I _mean_ it, Shane, stay back," she snarled, hoping she didn't sound as terrified as she was.

"Hang on, now, it ain't like that —"

"Don't —"

"Anna, I'm _sorry_ ," he interjected quickly, his eyes boring into hers. "Shit, I — look, I didn't mean — I wasn't —" he fumbled for the right wording, rubbing a hand through his tousled dark hair as he placed a hand on his hip, exhaling heavily. "Look, I'm sorry, alright? I-I wasn't in my right mind, I wasn't thinkin' straight. I never meant — I-I wasn't gonna —"

"Stop —"

"Look, it had nothin' ta' do with ya," he urged, fixing her with an impatient stare as he struggled to get his point across. "I-I was goin' through somethin'. I was messed up and drunk and — _shit_ ," he growled, almost to himself, turning his back on Anna as if to collect himself, to get his thoughts in order.

Anna took the opportunity to begin inching further away from Shane, eyeing the door to the hallway. She stilled when he turned back around, a quiet desperation masking his expression.

"Look, ya gotta believe me," he pressed, seemingly at a loss for words. "I apologize for what happened, I do. That ain't me. That ain't the kinda _man_ I am. Ya gotta believe me," he implored and Anna felt a hint of her resolve fade.

She sighed, shaking her head slightly as she set the container of juice on the counter beside the empty pitcher. Anna wasn't one to hold grudges — she'd never been that kind of person. But if Daryl hadn't intervened when he did, how far would Shane have gone? He'd been out of control last night, a dangerous side of him emerging and truth be told, she was about ready to say _anything_ right now just to make this conversation end. "We all do stupid shit when we're drunk," she finally mustered, shrugging a shoulder up.

Shane laughed, a bit breathlessly, the tension melting off his expression as he stood up a little straighter. "Ain't that the truth," he scoffed, still looking a bit ashamed, but there was a relief to his words that wasn't there before.

A silence settled over the kitchen, neither knowing what else to say. Shane's apology didn't change anything — Anna still didn't trust him, she still felt uneasy around him, but there were bigger problems at hand and she honestly just didn't want to expend any more energy on the man. Feeling a bit uncomfortable, Anna sent him a short nod before slipping by him and heading towards the door, not wanting to be alone with him for longer than necessary.

But as soon as she brushed by Shane, the door just ahead of her, his voice halted her in her tracks. "Hey, Anna?"

Anna turned around, facing the man once more. "Yeah?"

Shane looked up at her and Anna noticed a sudden ominous gleam in his eyes that wasn't there before. "I'd appreciate keepin' what happened last night jus' between us," he murmured, his words soft but an underlying tone in his voice that sent a chill down her spine.

Anna didn't respond, instead simply holding his penetrating gaze a moment longer before turning to leave. But then a thought struck her, causing her gut to twist into knots and she faltered. "Where'd you get those scratches from, Shane?" she suddenly challenged, shooting him a look over her shoulder.

Shane's brow furrowed, taken aback for a moment. "Huh?"

"The _scratches_ ," she pressed, spinning on her heels and taking a step towards him. "The ones on your neck — how'd you get them?" she demanded, unsure where the sudden bravery came from.

A sort of incredulous laugh bubbled out of Shane, his lips turning up into a twisted half-grin. "I said — I told everyone — I said I must've done it while I was sleepin'," he played off, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Bullshit," she shot back hotly, crossing her arms over her chest.

Shane looked dumbstruck for a moment but quickly recovered, taking a step closer to Anna, who held her ground. "Excuse me?"

"You had those scratches last night," she pointed out, eyeing the three scabbed over marks on his neck. "When I ran into you in the hallway, _you already had them_ ," she practically spelled it out for him, almost daring him to try and come up with another excuse. "You had them last night and I sure as hell didn't do that to you — _so who did?"_

Shane's eyes narrowed as he pieced together where Anna was going with this accusation. "If ya think —"

"I'm not the only person you 'paid a little visit to' last night, am I? Huh? Who else did you fuck with, Shane? Who was it?" Anna snapped, feeling a wave of fury wash over her at the thought of him tormenting someone else.

Shane took another step threateningly towards her, jabbing a finger in her direction. "You little —"

"Listen to me very carefully," Anna snarled, straightening up under Shane's towering stance. "If you _ever_ put your hands on _me_ or _any_ other woman in this camp again, I will _fucking_ kill you."

Shane's resolve wavered, caught off guard by the sudden shift in Anna's demeanor, clearly not expecting her threat. If she was being honest with herself, Anna hadn't expected for those words to come out of her mouth either — but there was something about Shane's smugness, the underlying meaning behind him asking her to keep his attack a secret that made her blood boil.

Anna half-expected for Shane to chew her out, to throw a punch, to do _something_ — but instead, he simply scoffed, the next words to come out of his mouth completely throwing her for a loop. "Ya better keep that little guard dog of yours on a leash, ya hear me?"

Now, it was Anna's turn to falter, confused by his seemingly random retort. "What — what the hell are you talking about?"

"Don't play _dumb_ ," he spat, his lips curling up into an arrogant smirk. "I saw him last night, sleepin' outside your door like a damn stray," he sneered. "That prick's about one wrong move away from gettin' his ass kicked ta' the curb."

Anna fumbled for a response, still confused as to what the fuck Shane was even talking about. "Who? What are — sleeping outside my —"

The rest of Anna's sentence faded as she noticed suddenly that Shane was no longer looking _at_ her — but _behind_ her, an odd expression flashing across his features before his gaze settled back on her. "Yeah, keep on playin' dumb," he muttered under his breath, scoffing once more before he pushed past Anna and headed for the door.

Anna turned to follow Shane, determined to get some answers out of him before he left — but she felt all of the air leave her lungs when she suddenly spotted _Daryl_ standing in the doorway.

He was so rigid, so _still_ , he almost looked like he was made of stone. He blocked the entrance to the hallway, hands balled into fists at his sides, eyes narrowed, zeroed in on Shane. Anna had a brief flashback of the night before, his appearance and powerful demeanor reminding her just how _terrifying_ the archer could be.

Shane's steps slowed as he reached the doorway and Anna could practically picture the smug look crossing his face as the two stood toe to toe. A brief moment of palpable tension rocketed through the room before Shane pushed forward, slamming his shoulder into Daryl's as he passed, the archer remaining steady despite the force of the impact.

Shane then disappeared into the hallway without another word, leaving Anna and Daryl alone once more. The archer turned his gaze on her, his jaw clenching for a moment as his pensive eyes surveyed her features. Then, without another word, he spun on his heels and stalked down the hallway.

Anna felt a whirlwind of emotions, now left with even _more_ questions than answers — who else had Shane gone after last night? Where did the scratches come from? How come Daryl always seemed to magically appear whenever Anna was in trouble? What did Shane mean someone had been 'sleeping outside her door'? It couldn't have been — no, it couldn't have been Daryl. He'd left her room last night. She'd been horrible to him. He wouldn't have done that — _would_ _he?_

 _No_ , there was absolutely _no way_ he would've done that.

Anna ran a hand through her hair, feeling incredibly frustrated. This was exactly why she hadn't wanted to join the group — she was becoming too involved with this collection of strangers. It was making her vulnerable, it was making her _weak_. She needed to regain focus on what her _main_ purpose had been since the world went to shit — _finding Ben_. She couldn't be a part of this group — there was too much drama, too many threats — she needed to be on her own. That was the best option for her.

She groaned softly, squeezing her eyes closed. When had everything gotten so _complicated_?

"Hey, there you are," a sudden voice interrupted Anna's thoughts. Her eyes snapped open, spotting T-Dog standing in the doorway to the kitchen. "C'mon, the Doc's got somethin' ta' show us," he explained, jerking his finger down the hall.

Anna quirked a brow, wondering if they were finally going to get some answers, and hurried after T-Dog down the hall and to the control room.

The control room was vast — filled with computers and big screens and empty seating. Anna could picture the control room before the world ended — like a busy beehive, filled with buzzing scientists and doctors, creating new cures and discovering new diseases. Jenner was standing in front of a monitor, typing something up on the computer as the rest of the group filtered in behind him.

"Give me a playback of TS-19," he ordered Vi, his computer programing system.

The lights dimmed through the control room as Vi pulled up the information asked of her on the big screen. _"Playback of TS-19,"_ Vi's computerized voice echoed throughout the room as an analytical simulation of brainwave activity popped up on the screen.

Jenner began explaining the playback video of Test Subject 19 — after being bitten, the subject had offered their body over for examination, allowing the remaining doctors to study the process of what _actually_ happens before you turn. The video was hard to watch — the lack of answers as to what this outbreak was even _harder_ to digest.

"So it's not just here," Andrea scoffed incredulously, a slightly wild look in her eyes. "There's nothing left _anywhere_? _Nothing_? That's what you're _really_ saying, right?" she demanded, desperate for answers Jenner couldn't provide.

When the Doctor remained silent, any shred of hope the group had left dissipated, a heaviness settling over the room. There was nothing left. _Nothing_. This outbreak had spread all over the whole country, maybe even the whole _world_. There was no cure. There were no answers. There was _nothing_.

"Man, I'm gonna get shit-faced drunk," Daryl sudden growled from the opposite side of the room, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. " _Again_."

Anna snuck a glance at him, studying the aggravation in his expression as he stared off, gnawing on the side of his thumbnail for a moment before moving to pace back and forth.

"Dr, Jenner, I know this has been taxing for you and I hate to ask one more question, but…" Dale suddenly spoke up, drawing everyone's attention as he moved to the front of the room, eyes trained on the far wall. "That clock —" he pointed towards the time marker on the wall. "— it's counting _down_ ," he murmured, turning to face Jenner. "What happens at zero?"

Anna watched the clock, the number slowly winding down — she hadn't even noticed. But now that Dale brought it to everyone's attention, she was starting to get a bad feeling about the whole situation. Something was _off_. Jenner was keeping something from them — she could feel it in her bones.

Jenner was quiet for a moment before he turned to address the group. "The — the basement generators…they run out of fuel," he murmured, lowering his eyes.

"And _then_?" Rick pressed, though Jenner remained silent once more, instead walking away from the group entirely. The sheriff huffed a breath, looking around the room. "Vi, what happens when the power runs out?"

" _When the power runs out, facility-wide decontamination will occur_ ," Vi recited monotonously.

The group shared horrified looks. "Facility-wide decontamination?" Carol whispered, her arm snaking around Sophia's shoulders.

"Hey, Doc, what the hell's that supposed ta' mean?" Shane demanded, calling after Jenner who made his way towards the exit. "Doc?" he yelled after him, but the doctor ignored his shouts and disappeared from sight. "Damn it," he growled, rubbing a hand over his face as he moved to stand by Rick.

"Rick?" Lori murmured, moving to stand on the other side of the sheriff, looking at a loss for words.

Rick took a breath, placing a hand on his hip, his mind clearly ticking as he surveyed the group's panicked expressions. "Alright," he mumbled, mostly to himself, nodding slowly. "Alright, this's what we're gonna do — everyone, go back ta' your rooms. Stay there 'til we figure out what's goin' on here. Glenn, T, Shane — you're with me. We'll go down ta' the basement — figure out a way ta' keep these generators on as long as possible."

The rest of the group quickly nodded in agreement and began making their way to their respective rooms. Glenn gave Anna an encouraging nod before he took off running to catch up with Rick, Shane, and T-Dog, once again leaving her alone with her churning thoughts.

Anna paced back and forth within the confines of her room, each moment that passed without word from Rick only furthering her growing anxiety. _Facility-wide decontamination._ What the hell was the supposed to mean? Why had Jenner been acting so shady? What was he keeping from them?

Anna's pacing halted when the lights began to flicker above her, the sound of the air conditioning shutting off echoing throughout the room. "What the hell?" she murmured, straining her ears in an attempt to hear if the air had kicked back on. When all remained quiet, a growing buzzing of voices coming from the hallway, Anna stuck her head out the door just as Jenner began making his way down the hall.

"Why is the air off? And the lights in our room?" Carol asked the doctor as he passed, but he simply kept his determined pace.

"What's goin' on?" came Daryl's gruff voice as he poked his head out of his room, a bottle of liquor in his hands. "Why's everythin' turned off?"

Jenner grabbed the bottle from the archer's hands as he passed. "Energy use is being prioritized," he murmured, taking a long swig straight from the bottle.

"Air isn't a priority? And lights?" Dale shot back incredulously, Jenner continuing down the hall.

Everyone began making their way out of their rooms, trailing behind the doctor, demanding answers. "It's not up to me," Jenner shook his head. "Zone five is shutting itself down."

Anna's brow furrowed, that knot in her stomach growing as she left her room, joining the brigade following Jenner.

"Hey!" Daryl called after him, picking up his pace to fall in step beside Jenner. "Hey, what the hell does that mean?" he pressed and Anna could tell by the rigidity in his shoulders he was becoming more and more frustrated. When Jenner remained quiet, Daryl persisted. "Hey, man, I'm talkin' ta' ya! What'd ya mean it's ' _shuttin' itself down_ '? How can a buildin' do _anythin_ '?"

"You'd be surprised," Jenner mumbled, taking another long drink from the bottle.

The lights began to shut off one by one down the hall, the group picking up their pace as Jenner led them back into the control room. Anna spotted Rick, Shane, T-Dog and Glenn enter the ground level of the control room, Jenner and the rest of the group hurrying down the stairs to meet them.

"Jenner, what's happening?" Rick demanded as soon as the doctor step foot off the stairs, sweat seeping through the collar of his shirt, his eyes flittering frantically between Jenner and his family.

"The system is dropping all nonessential uses of power," Jenner informed, Rick falling in step beside him as he led the group to the main platform. "It's designed to keep the computers running until the last possible second. That started as we approached the half-hour mark. Right on schedule," he nodded, pointing towards the clock counting down on the wall before taking another long drink, handing it back to Daryl afterward.

The group slowed to a halt behind Jenner, waiting for him to continue, to explain what the hell was going on.

The doctor took a breath. "It was the French," he announced, walking up the steps to the platform, the group right on his heels, hanging onto each word.

"What?" Andrea questioned, speaking what everyone was thinking.

"They were the last ones to hold out as far as I know. While our people were bolting out the doors and committing suicide in the hallways, they stayed in the labs until the end. They thought they were close to a solution."

"What happened?" Jacqui asked quietly.

"The same thing that's happening here. No power grid — ran out of juice," he shrugged, at a loss for words as he turned around, motioning towards the rows of computer lining the room. "The world runs on fossil fuels. I mean, how _stupid_ is that?" he scoffed incredulously, walking away from the group.

Shane growled under his breath, rapidly approaching the doctor. "Let me tell ya —"

"Ta' hell with it, Shane!" Rick quickly grabbed his friend's arm, stopping his movement. "I don't even _care_ ," he spat, clearly done with Jenner's antics before he turned towards his family. "Lori, grab our things. Everybody, get your stuff — we're gettin' outta here — _now_!"

But just as the group began to leave, an alarm sounded throughout the room, the deafening noise drowning out everyone's fearful cries and protests.

"What's that?" Shane demanded, pushing away from the railing he leaned on.

" _Thirty minutes to decontamination_ ," Vi's voice suddenly echoed throughout the room, a large countdown popping up on the main screen.

Anna's stomach dropped, scanning the room wildly, seeing nothing but terrified expressions on those around her. Except for Daryl — the archer only looked _pissed._ "Doc, what's goin' on here?" he shouted over the blaring alarm, bouncing back and forth on his toes.

Shane leaned over the railing, his expression distressed. "Everybody, y'all heard Rick! Get your stuff an' let's go! Go now! Go!" he roared, frantically motioning for everyone to start moving.

But the moment Anna turned to run, the opening that led to the hallway was shut by an impenetrable steel door.

Everyone stilled, staring at the now sealed exit, a wave of dread washing over the group.

"Shit," Anna whispered in horror. "Oh, _shit_."

* * *

 _ **A/N :** Dun…dun…DUNNNNN._

 _A lot happened in this chapter! Anna's definitely feeling guilty over that fight with Daryl, but he seems unaffected…or does he?_

 _Shane is spiraling - yes, he apologized, but is he actually remorseful or is he just trying to cover his tracks? Was he bullshitting Anna about a certain someone sleeping outside her door? Who could that have possibly been?!_

 _The group is trapped. The CDC is going to implode. But will everyone make it out alive?_

 _ **QUESTION OF THE WEEK:** What're your thoughts on seeing a chapter from Daryl's POV? I know we've been watching this journey through Anna's eyes, but how about a little sneak peek into what's going on in that archer's head?_

 _(Feedback is INCREDIBLY important. I write for my own happiness, but I also write for YOU. So don't be afraid to shoot me an ask or message or leave a comment with your thoughts! It truly motivates me and helps move along the writing process. Let's discuss and be friends!)_


	17. Chapter 17

_**Author's Note :** Things are getting intense! Let's see who makes it out of the CDC alive..._

* * *

"Did you just lock us in?" Glenn's panicked voice rose above the prolonged silence, the alarm blaring in the background shutting off. "He just locked us in!"

Anna felt a shaky breath escape through her lips as she lowered into a crouch, squeezing her eyes shut. She placed one hand against the cool concrete floor of the control room, fighting for stability amidst the chaos moving around her.

Trapped. They were _trapped_. They were going to die in this control room. She would never find Ben. She'd never know what happened to him. She'd never see outside of the CDC's walls again. This was it. All of the suffering, the loss, the pain — all of it had led her to this moment _here_.

Anna's eyes shot open when she heard a commotion behind her. She twisted around, coming to an abrupt stand, and spotted Daryl suddenly being restrained by Shane and T-Dog, the archer shouting obscenities at Jenner, who merely sat and watched the scene before him. Anna took a cautious step forward — Daryl's breakdown and the frenzied look in his eyes forming a pit in her gut like an anchor.

She'd never seen him that way before — and she never wanted to again.

"Jenner, open that door _now_ ," Rick's authoritative voice broke through the sudden uproar as he rapidly approached the doctor.

"There's no _point_. Everything topside is locked down. The emergency exits are sealed," Jenner explained quickly, seemingly at a loss — like _he_ hadn't been the one to just lock the doors, like _he_ hadn't just sealed their fate.

"Well, open the damn thing!" Daryl growled, wriggling his way out of Shane and T-Dog's grasp, moving to pace furiously back and forth, waving around the bottle of liquor he still held in his hand.

"That's not something I control — the _computers_ do," Jenner shook his head. "I _told_ you — once that front door closed, it wouldn't open again. You heard me say that," he continued unabashedly, giving Rick a pointed look as the weight of his words settled amongst the group. "It's better this way."

"What is?" Rick fired back, glancing up at the dwindling clock on the wall. "What happens in twenty-eight minutes?" he demanded, staring down the doctor. Jenner held the sheriff's gaze for a moment longer before swiveling in his chair, beginning to quickly type on his computer. Rick looked moments from losing his cool and shot Shane a glance, the two having a silent conversation before Shane slammed his fists down beside the keyboard, attempting to intimidate the man into confessing. "What happens in twenty-eight —"

"You _know_ what this place is!" Jenner suddenly roared over Rick's interrogation, pushing up from his seat, a slightly wild look in his eye as he addressed the group as a whole. "We protected the public from very nasty stuff — weaponized smallpox, Ebola strains that could wipe out half the country! Stuff you don't want getting out — _ever_!" he shouted, expressing more emotion in that single moment than he had since the group had met him.

A tense silence settled over the room, all eyes trained on Jenner, waiting for him to continue, to _explain_. But the doctor simply took a breath, straightened out his white lab coat, and sat back down in his chair.

When no one spoke, Jenner exhaled, rubbing a hand over his weary face. "In the event of a catastrophic power failure — in a terrorist attack, for example — H.I.T.'s are deployed to prevent any organisms from getting out," he spoke methodically, his calm demeanor returning.

"H.I.T.'s?" Rick reiterated, his confused expression mirroring the rest of the groups.

Jenner paused, lowering his gaze blankly. "Vi, define."

" _H.I.T.'s — high-impulse thermobaric fuel-air explosives consist of a two-stage aerosol ignition that produces a blast wave of significantly greater power and duration than any other known explosive except nuclear_ ," Vi's voice echoed throughout the silent room, her words eliciting cries from several group members as she continued. " _The vacuum-pressure effect ignites the oxygen at between five thousand and six thousand degrees and is useful when the greatest loss of life and damage to structures is desired_."

"It sets the air on fire," Jenner murmured gravely, eyes still lowered. "No pain — an end to sorrow, grief, regret…" he continued before fixing a haunting stare in Rick's direction. " _Everything_."

Anna's eyes fell on Carol, who held Sophia to her chest, crying softly as she ran a hand through her daughter's hair. A sharp pain tugged at her heart, followed by a wave of anger. "You can't do this," Anna suddenly growled, all eyes falling on her as she stormed up the steps to the main platform, approaching Jenner. "We've got kids here, for Christ's sake. You can't do this to them!" she protested, glaring down at the doctor.

Jenner simply folded his hands in his lap, glancing up at Anna for a moment before lowering his gaze.

"Look at them," Anna whispered, pointing towards Sophia, who was now tucked beneath Carol's arm. When Jenner remained still, Anna huffed a breath and kicked at the leg of his chair, jolting him upright. " _Look at them_!" she hissed, the doctor's eyes unwillingly sweeping over to stare at the hysterical mother and daughter. "Look at what you're doing to them! You don't get to play God, Jenner. You don't get to do that!"

"I'm doing what I think is right," the doctor murmured, his eyes coming back to settle on Anna's furious expression.

"So taking the lives of innocent children is what you think is _right_?" she shot back sharply, narrowing her eyes. "How can you live with yourself?"

Jenner's stare flattened, an expression of peace coming over his face. "I won't have to much longer," he murmured softly.

Anna scoffed, shaking her head in disgust as she turned away from the doctor. Her eyes fell on Daryl, who'd been watching the exchange between the two and she sighed, shooting the archer a helpless look. She saw Daryl's expression twist before he suddenly turned and threw the bottle of liquor in his hands at the steel door, the shards of glass scattering throughout the room. "Open the damn door!" he shouted furiously, his face reddening as he screamed at the doctor.

But once again, Jenner remained silent, _emotionless_.

"Out of my way!" Shane suddenly roared, barreling past Daryl with an ax in his hand, deciding to try and _chop_ down the steel door. T-Dog threw another ax in Daryl's direction, who caught it easily and quickly joined Shane at the door.

Anna let out a shaky breath, leaning against one of the many desktops lining the room, apprehensively glancing at the countdown. Carol and Sophia joined Lori and Carl on the floor, mother's holding their children close as time began to run out. The look of terror in Carl and Sophia's eyes was enough to make Anna's blood boil as the reality of the situation began to set in.

Over the pounding and grunting of Daryl and Shane attempting to break down the door, Jenner spoke up. "You should've left well enough alone. It would've been so much easier," he murmured softly.

"Easier for who?" Lori fired back, tightening her arms around Carl's shaking form, eyes wide in disbelief.

" _All_ of you," Jenner urged calmly. "You _know_ what's out there — a short, brutal life and an agonizing death," he continued, slightly incredulously, as if he couldn't believe the group wasn't agreeing with the way his mind worked. "Your — your sister," he pressed, turning to face Andrea. "W-What was her name?"

"Amy," Andrea spoke quietly, knees pulled against her chest as she regarded the doctor warily.

"Amy…" Jenner hummed thoughtfully. "You _know_ what this does — you've _seen_ it," he then turned to Rick, who'd suddenly approached. "Is that _really_ what you want for your wife and son?"

"I don't want _this_ ," he shot back, emphasizing each word passionately before turning away, clearly racking his brain for a solution.

Shane appeared beside Rick a moment later, breathing heavily, sweating profusely as he took a moment to rest his forearms on top of a computer. "Can't make a dent," he murmured to Rick in between heaving breaths, hanging his head down.

"Those doors are designed to withstand a rocket launcher," Jenner revealed, shooting down any hope of getting those doors opened manually.

"Well, your head ain't!" Daryl's voice suddenly growled and Anna watched as he pushed through the crowd in front of the doctor, ax in hand, raising it above his head.

Several group members jumped into action, working on restraining the archer for the second time, who still fought vehemently against those holding him back.

"Whoa, whoa!"

"Daryl!"

"Back up! Daryl!"

Anna didn't think — she just _moved_.

She pushed away from the desktop she leaned against, joining those attempting to keep Daryl away from Jenner. T-Dog managed to rip the ax out of the archer's hands, Rick and Dale shoving him back harshly. But when Daryl stepped forward once more, shoulders rigid, fists clenched at his sides, Anna stepped in front of him, halting his movements instantly.

"Get outta my way," he growled, glaring down at her.

"No," she shot back resolutely, standing her ground.

Daryl faltered slightly, bouncing back and forth on his toes, looking as though he was going to try and make a move _around_ her. But she leveled him with a firm stare, holding her hand out, fingertips hovering in front of his chest.

" _Think_ about what you're doing," she urged quietly, keeping her voice low so only _he_ could hear. "You almost decapitated the only person who knows the code to get out of this fucking room," she pointed out rationally, raising her eyebrows, imploring Daryl to see _reason_ for a change.

Daryl looked like he was about to argue — but then Anna's words registered and instead, he scoffed, shaking his head as he turned on his heels and began to pace the length of the platform like a caged animal, his hostile gaze zeroed in on Jenner.

"You _do_ want this," Jenner suddenly spoke, drawing everyone's attention once more, until they realized he was speaking to only _Rick_. "Last night, you said — you _knew_ it was just a matter of time before everybody you loved was dead."

Anna's brow furrowed as she glanced at the sheriff, a look of shame flashing across his features before it disappeared. Rick was the apparent leader of this group — and if _he_ was having doubts, if _he_ had no hope…what did that mean for the rest?

"What — ya really said that? After all your 'big talk'?" Shane voiced, still struggling to catch his breath, but a disbelief to his words that reflected the current state of the group.

"I had ta' keep hope alive, didn't I?" Rick managed to explain, eyes trained on Lori's horrified expression.

"There is no hope — there never was," Jenner interjected incredulously.

"There's _always_ hope," the sheriff fired back immediately, approaching the doctor. "Maybe it won't be _you_ , maybe not _here,_ but somebody, _somewhere_ —"

"What part of 'everything is gone' do you not understand?" Andrea intervened, shooting Rick a pointed look from where she sat.

"Listen to your friend — she gets it. _This_ is what takes us down. This is…our _extinction event_ ," Jenner spoke solemnly, looking deep in thought as he mulled over his own words, the room deflating around him.

"This isn't right," Carol suddenly sniffled between sobs. "You can't just keep us here!"

Jenner leaned forward in his chair, his head tilting to the side as he addressed the distraught mother. "One, tiny moment — a _millisecond_. No pain —"

"My daughter doesn't deserve to die like this!" Carol cried out, looking at the doctor desperately, tightening her arms around Sophia's middle, tears streaking down the young girl's cheeks.

"Wouldn't it be kinder? More compassionate?" Jenner offered, trying to persuade the group in accepting the idea of the inevitable. "To just hold your loved ones and wait for the clock to run down?"

Before anyone could respond, the sound of a shotgun cocking echoed throughout the space — and then suddenly, Shane was rapidly approaching the doctor.

"Shane!" Rick shouted, moving to block his friend's determined steps

"Outta my way, Rick!" Shane roared, shoving the sheriff to the side, pointing the barrel of the gun at Jenner's head. "Open that door," he growled, finger twitching over the trigger. "Or I'm gonna blow your head off, do ya hear me?"

"Brother," Rick stood beside Shane, attempting to talk him off the ledge. " _Brother_ , this is _not_ the way. Ya do this, we will _never_ get out of here," he hissed.

"Shane, you listen to him…" Lori warned, coming to a stand, shielding Carl behind her.

Anna watched helplessly, Shane's deranged expression reminding her just how dangerous the man truly was. It was only a matter of time before Shane followed through with his threat — or even worse, someone _else_ got caught in the crossfire. She braced herself, determined to stop Shane, to keep Jenner alive, to keep _everyone_ alive.

But the moment she took a step forward, an arm shot out in front of her, halting her momentum. Anna glanced up, Daryl's penetrating gaze boring into hers as he kept her at bay, shooting her a subtle but firm shake of the head.

"If _he_ dies, we _all_ die," Rick urged desperately, trying to get through to his friend. "We _all_ die!"

Shane suddenly let out a deafening roar, swiveling the barrel of the gun to the left and firing at the line of computers. Everyone began ducking for cover as shards of glass and demolished pieces of plastic began flying throughout the room, Shane completely oblivious to the destruction and terror he was causing.

Anna jumped as the man continued firing the shotgun, a piece of scrap computer just narrowly missing her head as it flew by. She suddenly felt Daryl wrap his hand around her wrist, tugging her backward until she stumbled into his solid chest before yanking her to the ground. Her eyes locked with his for a moment, his blue eyes boring into hers, his breath coming out a fraction faster as gunshots continued to blare.

When Anna heard a sudden _thump_ , followed by a moment of silence, she peeked up from behind the desktop Daryl had pulled her behind. Shane was lying flat on his back, Rick standing above him, holding the shotgun. "Are ya done now?" the sheriff snapped, staring down at his friend. "Are ya _done_?"

"Yeah, I guess we all are," Shane huffed between breaths, shooting daggers up at Rick from where he had been taken down.

The room was deathly still as everyone who'd taken cover from Shane's outburst came to a stand. Anna surveyed the group, all eyes suddenly trained on Rick and she _felt_ for the sheriff in that moment — the stress, the _pressure_ of an entire room of people relying on him was a heavy burden to bear. But no matter how badly she wanted to help the man, she couldn't find the words — what could she possibly say to make this situation _okay_?

Rick was quiet for a long moment, clearly at a loss. His gaze landed on his family, his wife and son huddled together, their mirrored expressions _begging_ him to do something, _anything_ to persuade Jenner to open the doors. Rick's eyes lowered, a shaky breath escaping his lips as he turned to face the doctor. "I think you're lyin'," he finally murmured.

"What?" Jenner sounded, glancing at the sheriff.

"You're _lyin_ '," Rick reiterated fiercely. "About 'no hope'. If that were true, you'd have bolted with the rest or taken the easy way out — ya _didn't_. Ya chose the hard path. _Why_?"

Jenner lowered his gaze. "It doesn't matter."

"It _does_ matter," Rick fired back, crouching down slightly. "It _always_ matters. You stayed when others ran — _why_?"

"Not because I wanted to," Jenner articulated carefully, slowly pushing up from his chair and coming to a stand. "I made a promise — to _her_ ," he confessed suddenly, pointing at the big screen ahead. " _My wife_."

Anna exhaled heavily, running a hand through her hair as the weight of his words registered. Daryl scoffed from beside her, suddenly turning on his heels, grabbing the two axes propped up against the desk and storming up the ramp that led to the steel door.

She glanced at the ticking clock — six minutes and forty-eight seconds left. That was all the time they had left. She glanced around the room — Andrea and Jacqui sat silently, eyes glazed over. Rick continued to work on Jenner, urging the doctor to find the heart to open the doors. Carol, Sophia, Lori, and Carl watched desperately, holding each other close. Shane's head was lowered, a white-knuckled grip around the rim of a computer. T-Dog, Dale, and Glenn eyed the dwindling clock, pacing a bit, unable to stand still.

And Daryl — well, Daryl was back at that steel door, his grunts echoing throughout the room as he _whacked_ one of the axes against the impenetrable metal, still trying to break the door down himself.

He wasn't giving up.

And Anna found strength in that.

If she _was_ going to die, if this _was_ her last moment on Earth, she wasn't going to just roll over and accept it. She was going to _fight_.

Before Anna could second guess herself, she marched up the ramp that led to Daryl, the conversation between Jenner and Rick fading as the heavy _whacks_ of the archer's ax became more forceful. She noticed Daryl still from the corner of her eye when she appeared, but she ignored him, instead grabbing the second ax he'd propped up against the wall and hefting it over her shoulder.

Anna took a deep breath and slammed the blade of the ax against the steel door with all her might, grunting softly. She fell into a rhythm, her heart pounding against her chest, beads of sweat forming on her brow, but she continued nonetheless — the onslaught was enough of a distraction that she no longer heard the steady _tick_ of the clock counting down.

Daryl eventually rejoined, the pair working futilely on a door they _knew_ they couldn't break down themselves — but it kept them occupied, it gave them purpose…they were doing _something_.

After a long moment, Anna paused, breathing heavily from the exertion as another thought struck her. If she _was_ going to die, if this _was_ her last moment on Earth, the least she could do was try and make things right.

It was now or never.

"Daryl?" she murmured between heaving breaths, turning to look at the archer.

Daryl didn't respond, instead just continuing to slam his ax against the steel in steady succession.

Anna sighed. "Daryl, look —"

"Save it," the archer grunted, raising his ax once more and striking it against the door.

Anna faltered, brows furrowed as she wiped the sweat dripping down the side of her face. "But —"

"I said save it," he growled, shooting her a sharp look. "I don't wanna hear it."

A wave of frustration washed over Anna and she forced back the biting remark toying at her lips. "Look," she exhaled heavily, continuing before the archer could interject. "About last night — I…look, I —" she huffed a breath, using the crook of her elbow to wipe away another bead of sweat, mentally kicking herself. _Snap out of it, Brooks. Time is running out_ , a harsh voice nagged at her. "Look, in case we die here, I just wanted to say —"

"We ain't dyin'," Daryl immediately fired back, his movements stalling as he finally turned to face Anna, the rest of her sentence trailing off. "Not _here_ , not 'cause a' this _asshole_ ," he growled, motioning towards Jenner with the ax. "We ain't dyin'. So _save it_ ," he bit out — but there was a sensitivity to his words, lacking the harshness he usually embodied. It was almost an understanding — like he knew she needed to get something off her chest but also knew that this was neither the time nor place.

So Anna sealed her lips and nodded once, turning back towards the door, hoping she'd live long enough to continue that conversation.

But just as she raised the ax, building momentum to strike once more, the steel door suddenly _opened_.

"Oh my God," Anna exhaled shakily, completely caught off guard as she lowered the ax. "He did it. He _actually_ did it."

"Come on!" Daryl shouted to the others, waving them forward as he grabbed the second ax from Anna's loose grip. "We gotta get topside — let's go!" he urged, nodding her forward quickly as the majority of the group began running up the ramp.

Anna surveyed the room, making sure everyone was accounted for. Her eyes narrowed when she noticed Jenner whispering something in Rick's ear before Lori dragged him away.

"Hey!" Glenn suddenly yelled from up the ramp, his expression panicked. "We've got four minutes left, come on!"

Anna almost turned to leave, but suddenly spotted Jacqui at the bottom of the ramp, resisting T-Dog's attempt to get her to move, and hurried down the ramp to see what the hold up was.

"— no, I'm staying! I'm staying, sweetie," Jacqui confessed gently, pulling out of T-Dog's grip.

"That's insane!" he protested wildly, taking a step towards her.

"No, it's completely sane — for the first time in a _long_ time," she asserted firmly, her eyes wandering over the group members who'd circled around her. "I'm not ending up like Jim and Amy."

"Jacqui, no —" Anna's words came out meek as she took a step towards the woman.

"It's okay, honey," a sad smile flashed across her face as she looked up at Anna. "I'm ready. I've _been_ ready," she shrugged one shoulder up, wiping away a tear that snaked down her cheek. "This is _my_ choice."

"Guys!" Glenn shouted once more, bouncing nervously as he motioned towards the dwindling clock.

"There's no time to argue — and no point. Not if you want to get out. Just get out. Get out!" she urged desperately, giving T-Dog a small push before taking a step back.

Anna forced back the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks and turned around, briefly noticing Andrea still rooted beside Jenner. She almost called out to the woman, but T-Dog suddenly appeared beside her, grabbing her elbow and towing her back up the ramp to rejoin the group.

"Let's go! Let's move!" Shane hollered, taking off into a sprint down the hall, the rest of the group right on his heels as they made their way to the staircase.

Anna felt her heart hammering against her chest, unable to think of anything besides getting out and breathing fresh air once more. She spotted the door to the stairwell just ahead and picked up her pace, falling in step next to Glenn, shoulder to shoulder.

Rick, Shane, and Daryl barreled through the door first, followed by T-Dog and Glenn, the men needing to get topside first to start working on the sealed main entrances.

Anna pushed through the doorway after Glenn, stopping at the bottom of the stairs to make sure the rest of the group caught up. She moved to the side, allowing Lori, Carol, and the kids to hurry up the steps before her. "Come on, come on," she urged them as they passed, bringing up the rear of the group herself.

But the moment her foot landed on that first step, Anna felt the blood rush from her face and she froze.

Her _backpack_.

Her backpack was still in her room, sitting on the bed where she'd left it earlier. She didn't care about losing her clothes or her hammer or the few items she had stowed away in there — it was that _picture…_ that damn _picture_ of her and Ben...that damn _note_ he'd left for her in his apartment. The last remaining memories of her brother were back in that room, moments away from being burnt into nothingness, lost forever…

Anna growled under her breath. "Damn it," she hissed, the sound of feet trampling up the stairs drowning out her curse as she turned around.

"Anna?" Carol cried out as she twisted to run up the next flight of stairs, ushering Sophia to follow Lori. "What're you doing? Come on!"

"Just go!" Anna shouted, backing out of the stairwell and into the hall. "I'll be fine — just _go_!"

She heard Carol protest, heard her shout her name once more, but there was no time to explain, no time to specify — there was no damn _time_.

Anna tore through the stairwell doorway and took off into a dead sprint back down the hall, feeling as though she was a rat locked in a maze, her anxiety twisting the halls around her like mirrors in a funhouse. The blood pounding in her ears mimicked the steady _tick_ , _tick_ , _ticking_ of a clock counting down, of precious moments dissipating, of time running out as she struggled to remember which direction her room was in.

It felt as though she'd been running through the halls for hours, days, _years_ …but no — no, that couldn't be right — because if that were the fact, she'd be nothing but ash.

Or maybe…maybe she was _already_ _dead_?

Maybe she'd actually died in the facility-wide decontamination, maybe she never made it to her room, instead getting lost in the maze that was the Center for Disease Control, never to be seen again. Maybe she was in hell. Maybe this was her eternity, searching and searching for something she'd never find, something she'd long for but never hold.

Anna could feel the weight of her panic crushing her, tightening her chest, squeezing her insides into knots. The walls were closing in on her — she was _sure_ of it. Every step she took, every turn she made, she sunk deeper and deeper into the concaving floors — the gnarled hands of all the souls who'd taken their own lives down these very halls grabbing at her ankles, slowing her pace, yearning for her to join them…

But then she _found_ _it_ — she found the hallway that just last night her group had settled into, had dared to call home, and she propelled herself forward with reckless abandon, ignoring her protesting lungs, her quivering legs, her entire body screaming at her to _stop_.

Anna burst open the door to her room, briefly wondering how much time she'd wasted getting lost within the halls of the CDC. Any moment now, that timer would hit zero and that would be the end of it — the end of her, the end of this, the end of _everything_. She was flirting with disaster over a fucking photograph, over a scribbled note from her missing brother — was that _really_ worth the cost of her life?

She shook the thought away. There was no time to second guess herself now — the decision had already been made. And now she would have to face those consequences head-on.

Anna barreled inside the room, heading straight for where she'd left her backpack, right on top of the trunk at the end of the cot. Swiftly scooping it up, she slung it over her shoulders, feeling a wave of calm wash over her — despite the circumstances — as the pack settled against her back before she sprinted out of the room and back the way she came.

The halls were easier to navigate on the way back to the stairwell — maybe because Anna felt driven by a new sense of resolve, maybe because the weight of her pack and its contents grounded her, or maybe because her mind and body had shut down, simply moving on autopilot, on survival mode.

Whatever reasoning behind her sudden clarity, Anna focused solely on each twist and turn, backtracking the way she'd come.

Moments later, she finally spotted the stairwell entrance and pushed herself towards it, moving as fast as her legs would carry her. She had just shoved open the door when a voice from behind her broke through the air. "Anna!"

She faltered, hand still clenched around the doorknob as she spun around, suddenly spotting Dale and Andrea sprinting down the hall from the control room. A shaky exhale escaped her lips as she frantically waved them forward. "We gotta go!" she cried out, bouncing back and forth on her toes as the pair hurried towards her, their mirrored expressions terrified.

"Go, go, go!" Dale hollered as he urged Andrea ahead of himself, the two tearing through the door Anna held open.

"How much time?" Anna demanded wildly, her panicked voice echoing throughout the stairwell, her lungs feeling as though they were on fire as she bolted up the stairs after them.

"Just… _run_!" Dale shouted between gasps as he climbed the several flights of stairs as fast as he could manage, giving Andrea a soft push when she slowed.

Anna grit her teeth together, looping her fingers through the straps of her backpack, the added load only weighing her down. But there was no time to stop, no time to readjust, no time to _breathe_. All she could do was push forward, ignoring the way her muscles burned and twisted, begging for relief she couldn't provide.

Moments later, light flooded the darkened stairwell as Andrea finally found the entrance to the main floor and shoved the door open. Anna nearly sobbed with relief when she ran into the lobby and noticed one of the glass panes lining the front of the building had been smashed open.

The group had escaped. They'd made it out _alive_.

And now she could only pray for the same fate.

"Come on!" Dale yelled, waving Anna forward as he grabbed onto Andrea's elbow, guiding her around the splayed shards of glass and through the shattered opening.

Anna quickly followed, sidestepping a jagged piece of glass still stuck in the window before she jumped out of the building and landed on the outdoor pavement with a huff. Dale and Andrea motioned for her to move, urging her to pick up the pace, as the three began sprinting away from the CDC and into the field of massacred walkers.

A few walkers ambled around, stumbling over fallen corpses, sights zeroed in on the escaping survivors making their getaway. But Anna just kept her head up and stayed focused, running directly behind Dale and Andrea, racing for their lives as the clocked neared its final moments. In the distance, Anna could spot the caravan of vehicles the group had left parked in the street and felt her heart jump to her throat. As they grew nearer, she noticed _Daryl_ — he had pushed open the door to his truck, eyes wide and alarmed, hands cupped over his mouth as he shouted something she couldn't quite make out.

They were _so_ close, they were _right_ there, they were going to _make it_ …

But then time slowed as Anna felt something snake around her ankle, sending her flying forward and skidding across the pavement. She cried out as the skin on her elbows and knees tore, unable to process anything besides the cold, gnarled hand suddenly gripping her ankle.

Anna flipped onto her back, spotting the walker that had grabbed her frantically clawing its way up her leg, jaws snapping, vying for her flesh. She gnashed her teeth together, attempting to kick the walker off, to slide out of its grasp as she fumbled to reach around the side of her backpack still strapped around her shoulders. In the distance, Anna heard the incessant blaring of a car horn and shouting, but she couldn't make out the words over the blood pounding in her ears.

Her fingers grazed the head of her hammer stowed away in the side pocket of her pack and quickly grabbed it, yanking it out and raising it above her head, slamming the claw into the skull of the walker latched onto her, its movements instantly stilling. But when she tried to pull the weapon out, it remained embedded in the biter's brain, the claw buried deep within its flesh.

Anna hissed, struggling to pull herself out from under its weight, her foot caught beneath it. She frantically glanced up at the towering building and then over her shoulder, spotting Dale and Andrea ducking behind a wall of sandbags the military had set up for cover. Dale must've then noticed her absence because he shot to his feet, scanning the ground wildly for her. The moment his eyes landed on her struggling form, he attempted to jump back over the protective shield they'd found, but stopped when Andrea grabbed his wrist and yanked him back.

Then suddenly, through the chaos, Anna heard a voice break through the fog her mind had wandered into.

" _Down_!" a gruff voice shouted from a distance — a voice she knew all too well.

Anna instantly froze, her body moving on pure instinct as she grabbed the walker sprawled over her legs by the cuffs of its shirt and dragged it further up her body, lying flat and wiggling beneath it so that she was fully concealed — a desperate, last-ditch effort to protect herself from the incoming blast.

And then…it happened.

The Center for Disease Control exploded. The deafening _boom_ shook Anna to the very core,the world fading in and out as everything around her became muddled. The ground trembled from the force of the blast and Anna half-expected the pavement split open and swallow her whole. The heat from the explosion washed over her, warming her exposed flesh, her skin tingling as she cowered beneath the biter on top of her. The weight of the dead pressed against her chest and stomach, suffocating her as she fought for air, but she was too afraid and too disoriented to move. The ringing in her ears grew to a resounding roar, muting any other noises around her. Debris from the blast fell from the sky, scattering around her body, a few pieces of the decimated building plummeting onto the walkers back, only adding to the pressure crushing her body.

Anna didn't know how long she laid there — unable to hear, unable to move, unable to breathe. Her eyes blinked dazedly as she stared up at the sky, her head peeking out from beneath the dead. The world tilted around her, focusing in and out as tendrils of smoke wafted up her nose, beginning to seep through the sky, muting the clear blueness.

Her chest constricted as she wriggled beneath the smothering pressure, her arms and legs refusing to cooperate. The ringing in her ears sharpened and she winced, squeezing her eyes closed.

But then suddenly, the weight on top of her lifted and she gasped for air, sputtering for a moment as she inhaled a wave of smoke. Her eyes cracked open, noticing a shadowy figure hovering above her, blocking the greying sky. Anna blinked wildly, squinting slightly as she attempted to force her vision to focus. The shadow was speaking to her — no, _shouting_ at her — but she couldn't understand what they were saying, everything around her muffled as though she were underwater.

Before Anna could process what was happening, she was being yanked to her feet.

The moment she was upright, she stumbled forward, crashing into something solid, the world tilting beneath her. Two rough hands grabbed her shoulders, shaking her slightly, and she blearily raised her gaze, coming face to face with a pair of piercing blue eyes.

"Daryl…" she murmured groggily, squinting her eyes, her hands pressed against his chest as she grabbed two fistfuls of his shirt, fighting for solidity.

The archer barked something at her, but she still couldn't hear anything over the ringing in her ears and instead slowly shook her head. Daryl fixed her with an aggravated stare before he slid an arm around her waist, looping her arm over his shoulders as he began half-dragging, half-carrying her away from the demolished building and roaring fire.

Anna's legs trembled beneath her as she tightened her arm around Daryl, fighting to stay upright. In the distance, she spotted a blurry, shuffling mass and felt a pit settle in her stomach — a herd being drawn in by the explosion.

Daryl pushed ahead faster.

Black spots suddenly danced in Anna's vision, her stomach rolling, her body's aches and pains dulling as her legs began to give out, unable to keep up with the archer's determined pace. She squeezed her eyes shut, her drooping head lolling against Daryl's shoulder as the world began to fade.

The last thing Anna felt was the archer sliding his arm up her back, slipping it around her shoulders instead as his other arm cupped behind her kneecaps, swiftly swooping her off the ground.

And then everything went dark.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** And there we have it, folks! Goodbye Season 1, Hello Season 2!_

 _So, the next few chapters are going to take place during the time after the CDC but before the group finds Hershel's farm. I'm excited for what's to come/being able to write a bit of original stuff and not having to follow the show's preexisting storyline!_

 _Also...next chapter will be from DARYL'S POV. I'm super excited to figure what the hell's going on in that man's head. Hopefully, we'll get some clarity!_

 _ **QUESTION OF THE WEEK:** Do you think Anna was reckless for going back to grab the photo of her and Ben? Would you have made that choice? And how do you think Daryl will react to her decision?_


	18. Chapter 18

_**Author's Note** : Oh. Hi. *crickets*_

 _I KNOW I HAVEN'T UPDATED IN MONTHS. LITERAL MONTHS. I'M SORRY. BUT THIS WRITING SHIT IS LIKE…HARD. I hope y'all remember wtf has happened in this story because I had to go back and reread because I was LOST. So hopefully this shit makes sense. (I'll insert a recap to refresh everyone's memory.)_

 _I'm sorry. I'm gonna go hide in the corner now._

 _THIS CHAPTER IS DARYL'S POV, ALSO._

 _Okay, that is all._

* * *

 ** _Recap…_**

 _\- Anna was attacked by Merle (hopped up on coke, mind you) en route towards Atlanta in search of her brother, Ben. Their parents died at some point during the journey and Anna now wears their wedding rings on a chain around her neck._

 _\- Daryl swoops in and saves Anna from Merle, fixes her truck, and they have a moment *swoon*. He offers her a place in his group but she declines, putting her family first and continuing for Atlanta (even though he already told her the city was destroyed)._

 _\- Anna spends the night in a shitty gas station market, has a flashback of her childhood/a sneak peek into her relationship with Ben, and cries herself to sleep *aw bb, it's ok*._

 _\- The next day, Anna stumbles across a herd who traps her on the roof of the market…all hope seems lost. Until gunshots from the city draw some of the herd away *aka Rick escaping the tank*. A storm rolls in, providing the small amount of water Anna needs to make it to the city. A car alarm sounds from the city shortly after, drawing more of the herd away *hm…whoever could that be? Possibly a cutie patootie driving a red sports car?…*_

 _\- Anna makes her escape and continues for Atlanta. She parks her truck and makes the trek to her brother's apartment with no trouble. Once there, she finds a walker trapped in his bathroom, but luckily, it's not Ben. She finds a note from him addressed to her saying that he left for Fort Benning after the city was overrun. Anna stays the night and decides to try for the army base next._

 _\- Anna scavenges the following day, gathers supplies and heads back to her truck before nightfall. She runs into Rick's group (leaving the city after trying to find Merle) attempting to hotwire her truck, has a not so pleasant reunion with Daryl, but decides to drive the group back to their camp *she owes Daryl, give her a break*._

 _\- They return as the camp is getting overrun by walkers. Anna helps defend the quarry and saves Carl, almost dies, but *dun dun dun* is saved by Daryl once more._

 _\- Rick offers Anna a place in the group but she's set on searching for her brother and heading to Fort Benning. She's still unsure why Daryl is being so cold to her._

 _\- Stays one more night with the group, contemplating next move. Daryl gives Anna his dinner after she gave Sophia hers, only furthering Anna's confusion regarding the archer. *make up your damn mind, Dixon!*_

 _\- Anna decides to join the group to the CDC. If CDC is a dead end, Rick promises they will try for Benning._

 _\- Daryl is being a jerk face again and Anna is #overhimandhisissues._

 _\- They make it to the CDC, meet Edwin Jenner, and have an interesting dinner. *group finds out Anna's mom had cancer, but ultimately died from a walker bite*_

 _\- Everyone gets drunk *ayeee gettin' crunk*_

 _\- Anna and Glenn bond while everyone else turns in for the night *supposedly* and she finds out more about the archer/Merle/what happened in Atlanta the day she ran into them._

 _\- She learns that Daryl and Merle got into a huge fight/brawl and is pretty sure she's the reason it started. Realizes that Daryl is a moody lil' bitch because he blames her for the way things ended with him and Merle/the fight they had/the mean things he said to his brother._

 _\- Shane pops up outta nowhere, all sorts of fucked up, and basically attacks Anna because he's a horny lil' psychopath. Daryl hears the struggle and yet again, *shocker* saves Anna._

 _\- Daryl stays in Anna's room *cue awkward tension* and she spills out some sort of apology *which Daryl ignores* instead bringing up the fact that she didn't find her brother. She shares the note she found/her plan to head for Fort Benning. Daryl is like "psh, ya ain't gon' make it, ya dumb ho" and Anna's like "psh, you're so fuckin' rude omg" and Daryl storms out and Anna's all like "JUST BC U GAVE UP ON UR BROTHER DOESN'T MEAN I'M GIVING UP ON MINE" and Daryl's like "ow…dat's some cold shit" and leaves._

 _\- Anna can't sleep because GUILT. Anywho, the next morning everyone has breakfast together, Shane apologizes to Anna/threatens her to keep her mouth shut in the same breath._

 _\- Then, cue the group trapped in the CDC/building about to explode._

 _\- Group gets out, Anna's a dumb lil ho and runs back inside for her backpack *LEAVE HER ALONE SHE COULDN'T LEAVE THE PICTURE OF HER AND BEN/HIS NOTE TO HER BEHIND*_

 _\- Anna almost dies, but whoohoo, she lives! Daryl runs back into the field and carries her semi-unconscious form away from the wreckage._

 _There. Now everyone's caught up._

 _AND…HERE WE GO._

* * *

 ** _Previously…_**

Black spots suddenly danced in Anna's vision, her stomach rolling, her body's aches and pains dulling as her legs began to give out, unable to keep up with the archer's determined pace. She squeezed her eyes shut, her drooping head lolling against Daryl's shoulder as the world began to fade.

The last thing Anna felt was the archer sliding his arm up her back, slipping it around her shoulders instead as his other arm cupped behind her kneecaps, swiftly swooping her off the ground.

And then everything went dark.

* * *

 ** _Now…_**

The desolate road spilled out before the caravan of survivors, its winding roads and towering trees seemingly endless. Abandoned cars littered the sides of the road, some doors till strewn open, others covered in blood and grime. There wasn't another soul in sight — it was as though the entire world had been completely wiped clean, forced to begin again from scratch.

The survivors traveled along cascading backroads, steering clear of highways and more populated areas as they navigated out of the city and into the rural countrysides of Georgia with no set destination in mind.

Daryl lost track of how long the group had been driving, the minutes and hours seeping into one another as the sun reached its highest peak and began its slow descent. His hand rested lazily atop the steering wheel, the other resting on his thigh, fingertips drumming anxiously against his knee.

His mind had been ticking nonstop since the group had escaped the Center for Disease Control. The explosion had drawn in a massive herd, bigger than any horde Daryl had ever seen before. There hadn't been time to reconvene, to figure out a different course of action, to make sure —

A soft whimper suddenly drew Daryl's attention to the passenger seat, his gaze settling on _her_.

Anna Brooks.

The archer sighed, pulling his eyes away from her sleeping form, focusing back on the road ahead. He rested his elbow against the doorframe, the side of his thumb finding a home nestled between his teeth. He gnawed absently on the side of his thumbnail, his thoughts refusing to settle, his nerves standing on end.

In the midst of all the chaos, during the group's last ditch effort to escape the impending blast, Daryl hadn't even _realized_ that Anna was no longer with the group. His jaw clenched, the backs of his teeth gnashing together — how could he not have _realized?_

He could still feel that pit in his stomach, the feeling of dread that'd shot through him when he'd spotted her climbing out of the CDC after Dale and Andrea. It felt as though all the air had been sucked from his lungs, leaving him paralyzed, only able to sit and watch as she ran for her life — and there hadn't been a damn thing he could do about it.

The explosion had drawn in the dead, giving him no time to make sure she was uninjured, to make sure she was _okay_. He didn't think, he didn't hesitate — he just ran back for her, the heat from the blast surging over his exposed flesh as he spotted her trapped beneath an unmoving walker, her hammer lodged in its skull.

Although she'd been disoriented when he'd found her, unsteady and dazed as he'd pulled her to her feet, the most important thing was that she was _okay_.

So he'd carried Anna's weakened form back to his truck as she drifted in and out of consciousness. And when Lori emerged from the RV, frantically motioning for him to leave Anna with her and the others before they departed, he blatantly ignored the offer — he just couldn't bring himself to do it, for some reason. He had to keep an eye on her, had to make sure she kept herself out of trouble. The damn woman had run back into an imploding building — who the hell knows what else she'd do?

No. No, he needed to keep an eye on her. He didn't trust anyone else to keep her alive. That was what this boiled down to. He didn't trust anyone else to —

Daryl clenched his jaw, grip tightening around the steering wheel as he forced himself to focus — to get a fucking _grip_. What the hell had gotten into him? This wasn't who he was. This wasn't what he _did_. Everything had been so simple before — before losing Merle, before the CDC, before he met _her_. Over the course of the last few days, Anna Brooks had somehow managed to worm her way into the forefronts of his mind, had crawled her way beneath his skin, and now he couldn't seem to quiet the demanding need to keep her _alive_.

What the hell had gotten into him?

Daryl still thought about that day back on the road — the day he first met her. She'd seemed so vulnerable, so _terrified_ — cowering beneath Merle's grasp, his knife pressed against the hollow of her throat, a small trail of blood seeping from her pierced flesh. It wasn't the first time he'd walked in on Merle tormenting some poor unsuspecting victim — but there'd been something different about _her_. The moment her big, brown eyes locked with his, he found himself intervening before he could think twice. There hadn't been a moment of hesitation when he pointed his crossbow at his brother's head — not even a _flinch_.

And _that_ is what had freaked him out the most.

He sometimes wondered what would've happened if he hadn't gotten involved that day. What would've happened to Anna? How far would his brother have gone? Merle had been out of control that day — had been for a _long_ time before that too. The drugs hadn't helped either, instead heightening his already brusque demeanor.

Merle hadn't cared about anyone or anything — Daryl wasn't even sure if his brother ever really cared about _him_. He knew that Merle's inevitable downfall would happen from his own recklessness, his own actions and choices, and he'd been trying to prepare himself for life without his brother for a long time coming.

But in all the various ways Daryl had pictured his final moments with Merle, what he hadn't expected was for there to be a brutal fight, a harsh exchanging of words, and an overwhelming swell of guilt vast enough to swallow him whole.

And it all came to a head after that day on the road.

The day he met _her_.

 _Daryl stormed through the growing underbrush of vines and leaves, stepping over an exposed root as he pushed forward, driven solely by frustration. He heard a sudden_ thud _behind him, followed by a string of muttered curses, but still pushed forward, ignoring the racket._

 _"Damn roots be poppin' up outta nowhere, swear ta' Christ," Merle's gravelly voice echoed from behind._

 _The archer glanced over his shoulder, spotting Merle kneeling on the forest floor, grunting as he pushed himself back onto his feet. But Daryl didn't slow his pace, didn't respond, didn't offer to help —_ nothing _. He didn't trust himself_ not _to snap right now, the anger coursing through him growing with each step he took closer to camp, further away from the scared girl with big brown eyes and a beaten down pickup truck._

 _Daryl gnashed his teeth together, grip tightening around his crossbow. What a shit-fucking-day it had been. He'd volunteered to go hunting, to try and rile up some food for the group waiting back at the quarry. But then Merle had decided to tag along last minute, his brother itching to be out in the wilderness, away from the cautious eyes that watched his every move back at camp._

 _And it had all gone downhill from there._

 _Merle's boisterous persona had done an outstanding job in alerting every living and nonliving thing within a mile of their approach, leaving the pair empty-handed by the end of their long day. Daryl's frustration had only grown with each hour that passed, the thought of coming home with nothing forming a pit in his gut. The brothers were already on thin ice with the group, one wrong move away from being kicked out on their asses — no thanks to_ Merle _, he might add._

 _They'd scoured the vast forest, waded through the babbling creek just a few miles from camp, and even checked out a couple cottages and sheds they'd randomly stumbled upon — but there'd been_ nothing, _everything within a five-mile radius seemingly wiped clean._

 _"Mind slowin' your roll there, baby bro?" Merle called after him, his voice becoming more and more distant with the increasing space Daryl was putting between them. "Ain't the athlete I used ta' be," he snarked lightly._

 _Daryl rolled his eyes, although Merle couldn't see from where he trailed behind him._

 _"Hey, what's the fuckin' dealio?" Merle snapped, his footsteps quickening. "Ya ain't still pissed at me, are ya?" he pressed, an incredulous laugh booming from deep within his gut. "Aw, c'mon, Darlina —"_

 _"Hey!" Daryl snapped, halting abruptly and turning on his heels, coming face to face with Merle, who'd finally caught up to him. "Ya gonna draw in every walker around if ya don't shut your damn trap," he hissed, eyes narrowed into slits, Merle's jeering expression only angering him further._

 _"Ah, let 'em come!" he scoffed, holding his arms out at his sides. "We can take 'em, you an' I!" he continued, the volume of his words increasing, echoing throughout the otherwise silent forest._

 _Daryl huffed a breath, shooting his brother a look of contempt as he turned on his heel and stormed forward, leaving Merle behind once more._

 _"Hey, what's got your panties all up in a twist, huh?" Merle mocked, catching up and falling in step beside the archer. "This ain't 'bout that skirt from earlier, is it?" he accused tauntingly._

 _Daryl stiffened, his body going rigid at the mention of the girl from the road, but he refused to give his brother the satisfaction of a response._

 _Yet somehow, Merle knew he'd struck a chord, a lopsided sneer coming over his face as he nudged Daryl in the ribs with his elbow. "C'mon, is that it?" he teased, snickering softly. "Ya pissed at ol' Merle for layin' claim on the bitch 'fore ya had the chance? Ya see, I knew ya was —"_

 _"I said shut up, Merle!" Daryl suddenly growled, turning to shove his brother to the side, coming to a swift halt. "This ain't 'bout the damn girl. It's 'bout how ya can't keep ya damn mouth shut, alright? Ya scared off any decent game we might've found out here — an' now we're goin' back ta' those people with jackshit!" he snarled, standing toe to toe with his brother, fighting off the urge to smack that arrogant look off his face._

 _"An'?" Merle shot back simply._

 _Daryl faltered, brows furrowing. "An' what?"_

 _"An' that ain't our problem, brother," he scowled, some of the humor fading from his expression. "Ain't our responsibility ta' make sure those pricks don't go hungry, am I right?"_

 _Daryl scoffed, his brother's selfishness not surprising in the slightest. "Ya know, maybe if ya spent a lil' more time with your head out a' your ass, we wouldn't be in this fuckin' mess ta' begin with," he spat, turning on his heel once more._

 _"My head spends jus' the right amount a' time in my ass, thank ya very much."_

 _"That you or the drugs talkin'? Hard ta' tell the damn difference these days," Daryl shot back over his shoulder before pressing forward._

 _"Yeah, yeah," Merle called after him, following suit. "It's medicinal — doctor prescribed an' all!" he snarked._

 _Daryl exhaled heavily, prayed for strength, and pushed onward, suddenly hearing the soft murmur of voices growing from the approaching camp. He quickened his pace, hoping to be able to sneak back into his tent before anyone noticed his return. But much to his surprise, when the trees parted and the quarry came into view, he spotted the entire group sitting around the unlit fire pit in hushed conversation, all heads turning his way as he appeared._

 _Daryl paused, eyeing the group warily, feeling a pinprick of guilt hit him when most of their gazes traveled from his face, down to his empty hands, their hopeful expressions falling. The buzzing conversation quieted, a tangible disappointment spreading throughout the group as they realized that there would be yet another meager meal for dinner that night. The archer clenched his jaw, lowering his gaze slightly, feeling uncomfortable with all the sudden attention on him._

 _"Y'all miss me?" Merle's voice suddenly boomed, breaking the quiet. Daryl glanced up at the group once more, noticing how almost everyone began either rolling their eyes or turning their gazes away, one person audibly groaning. Merle let out a low whistle. "Tough fuckin' crowd," he murmured as he moved to stand beside the archer._

 _Daryl watched as Shane leaned over to whisper something in Lori's ear before he pushed up from his chair beside her and made his way towards the brothers, rubbing a hand roughly through his tousled hair. "Nothin'?" the officer asked softly, placing his hands on his hips, directing his question towards Daryl._

 _The archer merely shook his head once, readjusting the crossbow slung over his shoulder._

 _Shane muttered a curse under his breath, staring off into the trees behind the brothers. "Y'all were out there all damn day an' ya didn't find_ nothin' _?" he pressed, his expression tense._

 _"Ya got fuckin' eyes, don't ya? What's it look like?" Merle snapped, taking a small step towards Shane, drawing the man's attention away from Daryl. "Ya think ya can do any better, how's 'bout ya get off your lazy ass an' get out there yourself, Officer Asswipe," he bit out challengingly, puffing his chest slightly._

 _Shane scoffed and for a moment, Daryl thought he was about to start swinging. But instead, he just shot Merle a dirty look and turned away, making his way back to the fire pit where Lori and Carl sat._

 _Merle suddenly clamped his hand down on Daryl's shoulder, leaning in close. "Ain't our responsibility, brother," he rasped once more, tightening his grip as he lowered his voice further. "Don't be forgettin' why we're here in the first place — why we been playin' 'nicey-nice' with these fine folks all this time," he whispered darkly._

 _Daryl glanced at his brother, the dangerous sneer on his face unsettling. Without another word, Merle huffed a laugh, clapped Daryl roughly on the back and pushed past him, making his way towards his own rickety tent._

 _Daryl watched his brother walk away, feeling the weight of his words spread like fire through his veins — he hadn't forgotten why they were there. How could he? It'd been the only thing he could think about since they'd joined the group._

 _Merle had come up with the idea — of_ course _it'd been his idea. And Daryl had just…gone along with it. He hadn't protested, hadn't tried to talk him out of it. He hadn't even put up a_ fight _._

 _Did that make him just as horrible as his brother? Or_ worse _?_

 _Daryl scanned the camp, his eyes lingering for a moment towards where Carl and Sophia sat, tucked underneath their mother's sides, eyes wide and innocent as they quietly listened to the resuming chatter. These were decent people —_ good _people. And he and his brother were going to rob them blind come the following night, leaving them defenseless against the looming threat of the dead._

 _Daryl grimaced._

 _Worse. It_ definitely _made him worse._

 _But then suddenly out of nowhere, images of the girl from earlier flashed through his mind and he stilled. He wasn't sure why or how she'd weaseled her way into the forefronts of his thoughts, but before he knew it, there she was. He could picture the distrust marring her tense expression, the look only fading after he'd proven to her he meant no harm. He saw the light that'd rekindled in her tiresome eyes after he'd successfully fixed her broken-down truck, the way her smile brought life to her whole face. He remembered the way her gaze softened as she thanked him, politely turning down his offer to join the group back at the quarry._

 _He'd felt like he'd finally done some_ good _, like he'd done something that actually_ mattered _for once in his life._

That _was the type of man he was. Not…not_ this _. Not some sorry sack of shit, blindly following his big brother's destructive footsteps. That wasn't who he was. And that wasn't who he was going to be, damn it._

 _Feeling a new sense of resolve wash over him, Daryl straightened up and marched forward, searching for where his brother had wandered off to. It only took a few seconds before he found his brother lounging in a picnic chair outside his ramshackle tent, sharpening his hunting knife as he whistled softly._

 _Daryl saw a flash of that same knife being held to the girl's throat earlier, but quickly pushed the image away, it only fueling his anger._

 _Merle glanced up at Daryl's approach, giving him a quick once-over before he focused back on his weapon._

 _Daryl cleared his throat quietly, scanning the area to make sure there were no wandering eyes, no potential eavesdroppers. "Hey, we need ta' talk," he murmured lowly._

 _"So, talk," Merle shot back gruffly, taking a moment to observe the knife's sharpened edge, using his thumbnail to test the blade._

 _Daryl huffed a breath, growing more and more impatient towards his brother's indifferent attitude. He quickly surveyed the campgrounds once more, double checking that this would be a_ private _conversation. When the coast seemed clear, the archer crouched down in front of Merle. "Shit don't feel right, man," he rumbled, giving his brother a pointed look._

 _Merle suddenly scoffed, the corner of his mouth raising into a smirk. "That kinda sounds like a_ 'you' _sorta_ _problem, don't ya think?"_

 _"Nah, ya ain't listenin' ta' me," Daryl growled, his frustration mounting as he shot up to his feet. "We can't do this — it ain't right. They've — they've got kids here, ya know?" he pressed quietly, urging his brother to see reason._

 _But Merle simply stiffened, tucking his blade back into the holster of his jeans, regarding Daryl silently for a long moment. "So?" he finally rasped, face set in a stony expression as he folded his hands in front of him._

 _"So?" Daryl shot back incredulously._

 _"Ain't on us if those lil' shits starve, now is it?" Merle shrugged carelessly, no trace of humor in his gaze anymore. "We ain't their daddies, are we?"_

 _Daryl faltered, his response not entirely surprising but it did little to soothe his ever-present hostility._

 _"Don't matter none," Merle continued when Daryl remained silent, a hint of a sneer creeping across his face. "Ain't like those Rugrats gonna last long enough ta' starve ta' death anyways," he jeered, leaning coolly back in his chair, shrugging nonchalantly._

 _And Daryl had heard enough. Talking his brother out of an idea was like talking to a brick-fucking-wall. Merle could do whatever the hell he wanted — Daryl would have no part in it. So instead of playing into his brother's antics and giving him the reaction he was poking for, Daryl turned on his heel and stormed away, muttering harshly beneath his breath._

 _But he'd only made it a few feet before Merle's rasping voice stopped him dead in his tracks. "Ya got somethin' ta' say ta' me, ya best be sayin' it ta' my face, lil' brother," he suddenly hollered and Daryl could hear the growing impatience in his voice. It was then that he realized that his brother's shout had silenced every other conversation spread out amongst the camp, all eyes suddenly ping-ponging between the two brothers apprehensively._

 _Daryl clenched his jaw, turning around to find his brother now standing upright, his arms held out at his sides, clearly attempting to provoke him. But the younger brother remained steadfast, biting his tongue as he shot his brother a dark look._

 _"It seems ta' me ya got an awful lot ta' say, so why don't ya go on an' share with these fine folks," Merle continued, egging him on, the sudden attention only stroking his massive ego as he turned to address the entire group, as if putting on a show. "My baby brother ain't a man a' many words — I'm sure y'all have caught on by now," he placed a hand mockingly over his heart. "But my oh my, sure looks like there's jus' somethin' real important an' all that he needs ta' get off his chest. Somethin' he's jus' dyin' ta' share with y'all," he finished boldly, motioning for Daryl to take over, his eyes challenging. "So, c'mon then, brother. Share with the class."_

 _Daryl's gaze narrowed, feeling his blood begin to boil as he shot daggers in Merle's direction, moments away from losing his composure._

 _"Let's jus' take it easy, alright?" Shane suddenly intervened, coming to stand between the brothers, holding his hands out. "Let's jus' be adults here, now," he hissed quietly, giving each a stern look. "No need for this."_

 _"That's right, Officer," Merle quirked a brow. "That is_ exactly _right," he rasped, his words holding a heavier meaning as he leveled Daryl's stare coldly._

 _"Alright boys, put your rulers away," Lori suddenly chastised, coming to stand beside Shane, arms crossed over her chest, expression stern. "You're scarin' the children, now. Let's just — let's just start gettin' dinner ready, alright?" she urged softly, hoping the brothers would hear reason and stand down._

 _But when neither of them spoke, each brother glaring at the other, eyes alight in some sort of silent struggle for power. "Enough," Shane interjected once more, the tension radiating off the brother's affecting the group as a whole. "I ain't gonna ask either of ya again —"_

 _"Alright, alright, relax cowboy," Merle finally scoffed, waving Shane away. "Put a cork in it. We'll play nice. No need ta' get all dramatic, now."_

 _Shane shot Merle a dangerous look before he shook his head, running a hand over his face as he grabbed Lori's elbow and gently pulled her away. Daryl remained unmoving, chest heaving as he waited for his brother to move first._

 _Merle whistled lowly, slowly turning on his heels, seeming like he was finally standing down. But then suddenly, he glanced at Daryl from over his shoulder, snickering softly. "Hey, ya think Officer Dickweed'll let me borrow his handcuffs sometime? Jus' in case I run into that piece a' ass from earlier, ya know? I'd like ta' be a lil' more prepared next time," he murmured lowly, an unsettling gleam in his eye._

 _And Daryl saw red._

 _Before he knew what he was doing, he found himself suddenly throwing his crossbow to the ground and launching himself at Merle, tackling his brother roughly to the ground. He heard vague shouts echoing from around him, could feel someone tugging on the back of his shirt, but all he could focus on was Merle's taunting expression._

 _He was able to throw in one solid punch, feeling a swell of satisfaction as Merle's head snapped to the side before he was yanked off his brother and hauled backward. Daryl struggled against the restraint, watching as Merle was pulled to his feet, Shane and Morales fighting to hold him back as well._

 _"Daryl, stop!" Glenn's voice suddenly broke through the noise. "Just relax!" he urged, grunting as he and T-Dog struggled to hold the archer at bay._

 _"— let go a' me, damn it!" Merle growled, his face twisted as he tried to wriggle free._

 _"Enough!"_

 _"Break it up!"_

 _"Shane —"_

 _"Ain't none a' this concern none a' y'all!" Merle snarled, still fighting against Shane and Morales, his eyes zeroed in on Daryl. "This between me an' him," he growled, jabbing a finger in the archer's direction. "C'mon, Darlina — how's about we settle this like men?"_

 _"'Well, what a' sorry fuckin' excuse for a 'man' ya are, then! Ya do nothin' but_ shit _for this group!" Daryl snarled back, all of his pent up rage spewing out of him. "Could'a done somethin' useful today — but instead I find ya out there gettin' high an' doin' some stupid shit ta' an innocent girl, actin' like a damn prick! Ya ain't nothin' but_ nothin' _, Merle! Do ya get that by now? Huh?"_

 _Merle movements stilled as he regarded his brother threateningly. "Ya best watch your mouth, boy," he rasped darkly, his eyes narrowed as Shane and Morales slowly released him, still keeping him at arm's length. "Don't be forgettin' who you're talkin' ta', now. Don't be forgettin' whose blood ya got runnin' through ya. Ya don't wanna go on an' piss off the only family ya got left, the only family who ever watched out for ya an' stood up for your pathetic punk ass!" he growled, the anger in his words growing._

 _Daryl scoffed, yanking out of Glenn and T-Dog's grasp before marching over to where he'd thrown his crossbow down. He grabbed his weapon, ignoring the heavy silence that'd settled over the camp as he regarded his brother once more, feeling nothing but contempt. "Ya jus' a fuckin' waste a' space," he spat between heaving breaths, slinging his bow over his shoulder, the words feeling bitter on his tongue yet he couldn't stop them from slipping through his lips. "A good-for-nothin' addict — jus' like dad."_

 _Daryl ignored the subtle flash of hurt that snaked its way across Merle's face before his expression hardened. No one spoke, all eyes suddenly trained on him as the two brothers stared each other down once more._

 _Then, without another word, Daryl turned on his heels, shoved away the mounting swell of guilt that suddenly hit him, and stormed back into the darkened forest._

Daryl jolted back to reality, a metallic taste suddenly seeping across his tongue. He quickly pulled his thumb away from his teeth, noticing the blood now trickling down the side of his thumbnail. He sighed, wiping the blood away on his jeans as he focused back on the road.

Those were the last words he ever said to his brother. He hadn't expected that fight to happen, hadn't expected for those insults to come from his mouth, but Merle had always had a way of _pushing_ him — and Daryl finally _snapped_.

But now his brother was gone and he'd never get the chance to mend things. His punishment for what he'd said was to wallow in the guilt that'd stay with him for the rest of his life — however short he had left, at least.

Another whimper drew his attention back to Anna and he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. Her brow was creased, lips turned down into a slight pout, eyes shut tight and crinkled around the edges. Sleep brought her no peace — she still looked just as weary, just as _troubled_ , as she did when she was awake.

Daryl fought back the urge to reach out and wake her.

He sighed softly, forcing his eyes back on the road, away from the girl sleeping beside him.

When Daryl had found out what happened in Atlanta, that Merle had been left behind, handcuffed to the roof like a fucking _animal_ , his first instinct was to lash out. That always seemed to be his first instinct for some reason. But he'd _gone_ _back_ for his brother — he'd made the trek back to that dead-ridden city to save him and what did his brother do? He cut off his _own fucking hand_ instead.

Dumbass.

If Merle had just waited a little while longer, if he hadn't been so damn _impulsive —_

Daryl grimaced. He'd seen some nasty shit in his life — but seeing his brother's sawed-off, cold, limp, stump of a hand laying on that roof…well, that had to take the cake.

His stomach churned just thinking about it.

Still, his brother was tough — toughest son of a bitch Daryl had ever known. And he knew that Merle would never just roll over and give up…so the archer did what he did best and he tracked his ass.

And that had been a _dead-fucking-end_.

The only thing Daryl was sure of was that Merle had somehow made it out of the city alive. He had to have been the one who stole the truck that he, Rick, Glenn, and T-Dog had driven down to the railroad. It _had_ to be him.

So now, Daryl was left to live with the unknown — the fate of his brother was something he'd wonder about until the day he died. Maybe Merle had succumbed to the effects of his injury, crashed the truck, and bled out somewhere on the road. Maybe he found his way back to the quarry and realized that the entire group had upped and left him, that his own _brother_ had upped and left him. Maybe he'd made it somewhere safe, found a new shelter, a new group of people to take him in.

Daryl scoffed under his breath. Merle had a better shot of winning the fucking lottery than he did finding a group of people who'd put up with his bullshit.

 _Just because you gave up on your brother, doesn't mean I'm giving up on mine._

His grip tightened around the steering wheel as Anna's words echoed through his thoughts, their argument from last night settling like a pit in his stomach.

A fresh wave of fury washed over him as he remembered Anna's desperate shouts, Shane's greedy advances, and the blistering red heat that'd coursed through him when he came out of his room and saw her pinned up against that wall.

He could've killed Shane right then and there.

Daryl's eyes darted up to the rearview mirror, spotting Shane driving his Jeep directly behind him in the caravan of vehicles, the man's face twisted with tension, eyes narrowed as he stared straight ahead. But he must've felt the archer's gaze on him because suddenly, his eyes flashed up to meet Daryl's in the rearview mirror. The two held one another's stare for a long moment before Shane finally looked away, letting his arm dangle outside the open window of his Jeep, his fingertips drumming against the door.

He _should've_ killed Shane right then and there.

Anna shifted in the passenger seat, curling inwardly, arms wrapped around her middle as she tried to find comfort against the glass window she leaned against. After a moment, she sighed softly, her even breathing resuming as she settled against the door.

Daryl let go of the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

He was hoping Rick would pull the RV over sooner rather than later for the group to reconvene, giving him a chance to escape the small confines of the car and the inevitable tension when Anna finally woke up. She'd tried to talk to him about what happened between them back at the CDC, but it hadn't been the right time — it never seemed to be the right time.

So he'd brushed her off — but not for the reasons she probably thought.

As memories from the night before swarmed his vision, something suddenly made itself startlingly clear. The truth was, she'd been _right —_ he _had_ given up on his brother.

But not her — he hadn't given up on _her_.

* * *

 _ **A/N :** Season 2 has begun!_

 _We got to see a little flashback about that brutal fight Daryl and Merle got into, part of what has been fueling his hostility. As well as some of his conflicting thoughts. What'd you guys think of this chapter?_

 _Next chapter will also be from Daryl's POV – we'll be seeing a flashback of the night before and what exactly happened to Daryl after his and Anna's argument. And then we will be switching back to dear Anna's side of things._

 _I'm excited for what's to come. Thank you to those who've stuck with me. I appreciate you all so so so much. If anyone is lost or has any questions, feel free to shoot me a message!_

 _QUESTION OF THE WEEK: 1. Are you still interested in me continuing this story? I understand if not because it's been so long and I, myself, couldn't even remember everything that's happened. 2. Was Daryl right in what he said to Merle? Who's side are you on?_

 _Feedback is INCREDIBLY important. I write for my own happiness, but I also write for YOU. So don't be afraid to shoot me an ask or message or leave a comment with your thoughts! It truly motivates me and helps move along the writing process. Let's discuss and be friends!_


	19. Chapter 19

_**Author's Note:** This chapter is a continuation of Daryl's POV – picking up from where we left off. We're about to get a flashback of what happened the night previous at the CDC, after Daryl and Anna's fight!_

 _Thank you for all the love surrounding this story – it really pushes me to continue, so thank you! I appreciate you all._

 _NOW, LET'S GET TO IT._

* * *

 _Daryl slammed the door shut to Anna's room, the walls shaking from the force of it._

 _But no matter the anger coursing through him, he just couldn't seem to find the will to move from the spot in the hallway he'd suddenly rooted himself in. With his hand still tightly gripped around the doorknob, breath coming out in steady huffs, warmth shooting through his limbs, he tried to process just where the hell things had gone so wrong._

 _Daryl closed his eyes, the fury and hurt marring Anna's features flashing through his mind as she'd fought against his certainty that Fort Benning was gone. Why couldn't she understand that he was just trying to help? That he was just trying to talk some sense into her? She was so dead set on Fort Benning, on the idea that her brother had somehow successfully made the hundred-mile trek to the army base and was waiting there for her with fucking roses or something — was she fucking delusional? Did she have some kind of god damn death wish?_

 _Daryl's eyes shot open. What did he care for anyways? It had_ nothing to _do with him. And he wasn't going to just sit around and take the brunt of Anna's projected issues. There was enough shit going on with the current state of the world — the last thing he needed was this sort of unnecessary drama._

 _With a decision made, Daryl scoffed and shoved away from the door, feeling a fresh wave of frustration wash over him. He marched down the hall, heading away from Anna's room and back towards his own. She could do whatever the hell she wanted — she could go to Fort Benning, she could leave the group, she could join the fucking circus if she wanted to. It wasn't_ his _problem._

 _If she wanted to go on some kind of kamikaze-suicide-mission…fine. That wasn't_ his _problem._ She _wasn't his fucking problem._

 _But the moment Daryl reached his door, hand outstretched towards the doorknob, he paused, glancing back down the hall towards Anna's room for a moment before looking down at the doorknob, inches away from his fingertips. All he had to do was reach forward — that was it. Just reach forward. Twist. Push. Open. And go inside. That was it._

 _So why was he suddenly turning away from his room and walking back towards Anna's?_

 _What the fuck was wrong with him?_

 _Daryl clenched his jaw, hands balled into fists as he stalked back down the hallway. He wasn't exactly sure why, wasn't exactly sure_ what _his intent was, but it was as though his body had a mind of its own, carrying him down the hallway despite his mind's protests. He made it halfway down the hall before he halted, forcing his feet to remain rooted as he stared at Anna's door just a couple of feet away._

 _What exactly was the plan here? To burst into her room? To tell her off? To tell her to mind her own fucking business?_

 _No…no, that didn't feel right._

 _So Daryl pivoted, marching back down the hall towards his own room instead._

 _But he only made it a couple feet before he suddenly froze once more, a frustrated growl escaping his lips._

 _No, he had to see her — he had to tell her off, he had to tell her she was wrong, he had to make sure she was alright and —_

No _, damn it. No, that wasn't right. He didn't care whether she was alright or not. He shouldn't care. He wasn't_ supposed _to care. That wasn't part of the deal here._

 _But before Daryl could stop himself, there he was, turning on his heels and storming back towards Anna's room once more. It felt as though his insides were being yanked apart, like two different parts of him were duking it out for control. Part of him wanted to unleash the anger bubbling inside him. But another part of him, a quiet, simmering part of him that he hadn't realized was there,_ genuinely wanted _to mend things with the girl on the opposite side of the door._

 _But_ why _?_

 _Daryl stopped outside Anna's room, hand outreached towards the doorknob, but quickly froze. He dropped his hand to his side, glancing up and down the hall warily, before he leaned forward and pressed an ear against the door, holding his breath._

 _The room was silent. No quiet shuffling or faint footsteps. Just silence._

 _Daryl sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he pulled away from the door._

 _He needed to get a fucking grip._

 _The archer scoffed beneath his breath, deciding to head back to his room once and for all, chastising himself for allowing this complete stranger to have such an effect on him. But he only took a single step forward before he was pausing yet again. It was as though something was pulling him back, forcing him to remain rooted where he was._

 _What the_ fuck _was wrong with him?_

 _He just…he just_ couldn't _leave her. He couldn't do it. No matter how badly he wanted to shut down, to find calm within his own space, he just couldn't leave Anna Brooks alone, by herself, defenseless —_ especially _after what just happened with Shane._

 _"Damn it," he growled, feeling torn yet again. He thanked whatever higher power was out there that no one was witnessing his distress — the people in this group were too damn nosey. They wouldn't get it. They wouldn't understand. Hell,_ he _didn't even understand himself._

 _He couldn't go back to his room. But he also didn't want to go back into Anna's. He was at a complete and utter loss._

 _So instead, he suddenly found himself sliding to the ground, making himself comfortable propped up against Anna's door._

 _Daryl could practically hear Merle's snarking voice in the back of his head, chiding him, telling him he was 'weak', telling him he was 'fuckin' pathetic'. And maybe he was right. Maybe he_ was _pathetic. Maybe he_ was _weak. But above all that, the thing he was most was_ loyal _. And he'd promised Anna that he wouldn't let anything happen to her — that he'd keep Shane away from her in case the man decided to try anything else._

 _And that feeling, that innate need to protect, overrode any other feelings of self-loathing sneaking in._

 _Daryl sighed, resting his head against the door, propping his elbows on top of his knees as his fingers drummed back and forth over the cloth of his jeans._

 _He wouldn't stay there all night — just until he was sure everyone had turned in for the night…until he was sure that_ Shane _had_ _turned in for the night. He hadn't seen the man since their altercation in the hallway — but he could practically feel his blood begin to boil at merely the thought of what he'd walked into._

 _Daryl had wanted to kill Shane — wanted to end his pathetic life right then and there. The man was bad news, plain and simple, and he knew for a fact that it was only a matter of time before shit got worse — before the man became even more unhinged. This time, Daryl had been there to stop him — but what if next time he wasn't?_

 _The archer squeezed his eyes shut, shaking the disturbing images from his mind. That was the only reason he was doing this — sitting outside Anna's door like some sort of makeshift guard dog. He'd promised her he'd keep her safe. And that was the only reason he was doing this._

 _Right?_

 _Daryl groaned softly, his eyes snapping open as he rubbed a hand through his cropped hair, fighting off the tiredness seeping through his bones, the alcohol running through his veins. He gnawed at the side of his thumb absently, his body feeling heavier and heavier with each moment that passed._

 _Anna's words suddenly spun through his mind — 'Just because you gave up on your brother, doesn't mean I'm giving up on mine.'_

 _Who the hell did she think she was? Going around and talking shit about shit she didn't know anything about. Daryl scoffed, grinding his teeth together, yanking the corner of his thumb from his mouth and resting it atop his knee instead._

 _He didn't give up on his brother — Merle's dumb ass upped and took off. There wasn't shit he could do about it now. Was he supposed to go on some wild goose chase like Anna was? Searching for a needle in a god damn haystack? He wouldn't even know where to start — if his brother was even still_ alive _, for that matter._

 _Anna didn't know shit. She didn't know what the fuck she was talking about._

 _And yet._

 _Maybe he had. Maybe he had done exactly as she'd said — maybe he'd 'given up on Merle'. Maybe that was why he couldn't shake Anna's hurled words from his core. Maybe that was why he couldn't quiet the nagging thoughts churning in his mind._

 _Because maybe accepting Merle's fate, his_ loss _, maybe accepting that he'd never see his brother again was simply something Daryl had found easier to live with than he'd expected._

 _Daryl huffed a breath, quickly shaking the thoughts from his mind, running a hand roughly through his cropped hair. He shook his head absently, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the solid door behind him._

 _No. Merle was blood. Merle was_ his _blood._ His _family. And if you didn't have family, you didn't have shit._

 _Right?_

 _Daryl suddenly jolted awake, his eyes snapping open._

 _He hadn't even realized he'd fallen asleep, right in the midst of his spinning thoughts, right there outside Anna's door. He squinted slightly, his pupils adjusting to the fluorescent lighting down the hall as he sighed, rubbing a hand over his weary face._

 _That was the moment he felt another set of eyes land on him._

 _His gaze jerked upward, his hand immediately moving to hover over the knife strapped on his belt as his eyes fell on_ Shane _standing just down the hall. He was staring down at Daryl, his expression so smug the archer fought back the urge to hurl his knife down the hall._

 _Neither one of them spoke — merely staring each other down as Daryl tensed his body, ready to jump to his feet if the man took a single step towards him while Shane swayed slightly, his red-rimmed eyes giving his inebriation away._

 _Daryl narrowed his eyes challengingly, as if_ daring _Shane to try something, to give him an excuse to unleash some of that pent up anger brewing. But Shane merely scoffed, shaking his head as he fumbled for the doorknob beside him before he stumbled away, disappearing into his room and slamming the door behind him, leaving Daryl alone once more._

 _Daryl let go of the breath he'd been holding, his body going slack as he ran a hand through his cropped hair. He had no idea what time it was, there were no windows, no clocks —_ and _they were underground, that thought alone making the archer feel all sorts of discomfort. He quickly pulled himself to his feet, stretching out the crick in his neck caused from the uncomfortable position he'd been sleeping in._

 _He hesitated for a moment, holding his breath as he rested the side of his head against Anna's door, listening for movement. He thanked whatever God was out there that she hadn't woken up or randomly decided to leave her room — that would've been awkward._

 _Daryl sighed softly, pushing away from the door. He heard the quiet murmur of voices coming from the door opposite of Anna's, no doubt some of the group finally waking, and quickly hurried back down the hall. He wasn't worried about Anna's safety anymore — the group would be milling from their rooms soon and Shane wouldn't dare try anything if he knew there would be witnesses._

 _He was just that type of man._

 _Daryl cracked open the door to his room and slipped inside, shooting one last dark look at Shane's across the hall before closing the door quietly. Once inside, the archer exhaled heavily, feeling the fight leave his body. He brought his hand up towards his mouth, gnawing on the side of his thumb as he paced slowly back and forth, his thoughts churning once more._

 _That was it._

 _That was the last time he'd get involved with Anna Brooks. She could take care of herself from now on — she wasn't his responsibility, damn it. She was a grown woman who could deal with her own issues, her own consequences._

 _He had other shit to worry about._

 _Like the end of the fucking world, for instance._

 _But still, no matter how many times he went over it in his head, no matter how determined he was to keep his distance from the girl down the hall, a tiny, nearly imperceptible part of him knew that deep down, he wouldn't be able to stay away from her for long._

Anna whimpered from beside Daryl once more, snapping him from his thoughts.

His eyes flashed back and forth between her and the road, his entire body going rigid as she shifted slowly in her seat, face scrunched up slightly as she finally began to stir. Daryl fought off the sudden internal panic that twisted his insides, his grip around the steering wheel tightening.

And then, she was up.

Daryl watched her from the corner of his eye — the way she jolted upright, her breathing slightly labored, her hand automatically reaching to clasp onto the chain laced around her neck. She seemed disoriented, like she wasn't sure exactly she where she was or how she'd gotten there to begin with.

And then, she saw _him_.

Anna nearly did a double take when she first laid eyes on him — Daryl wasn't sure why. Her gaze only hesitated on him for a moment before she was facing forward, stiff as a board, leaning as far away from him as the truck would possibly allow.

The space between them was _still._ The quiet that stretched between them was enough to stand Daryl's nerves on end, his palms inexplicably sweaty all of the sudden.

 _Say somethin'. Say anythin', damn it,_ a voice in the archer's head growled. But for the life of him, he couldn't think to say a single thing.

He snuck a glance at Anna — she still looked confused, _bewildered_ almost, as she stared out the front windshield, her hand still twisting around the necklace she wore. She must've felt Daryl's gaze because she suddenly glanced over at him, their eyes locking for a brief moment before she turned to face forward once more — that was when Daryl noticed the sudden redness creep across her cheeks.

He promptly rolled down the passenger's side window.

The Georgian heat must've gotten to her.

Anna suddenly sat up straighter, searching the area around her somewhat frantically, feeling beneath the seat, her brow knitted tight. Daryl sighed, grunting as he stretched to reach into the backseat, keeping his eyes on the road as he pulled out her backpack and placed it between them on the front seat.

He could feel Anna's gaze burning a hole into the side of his face before she slowly picked up her backpack and held it to her chest, a shaky breath slipping through her lips. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick from being unused, the words barely above a whisper.

Daryl clenched his jaw. _Say somethin'. She's waitin' for an answer, ya stupid asshole._

"Ya almost got yourself killed," the words spilled through his lips much more harshly than he intended them to.

Anna flinched.

 _Way ta' go._

"For a _backpack_ ," he clarified, softening his tone, giving her a look.

Anna sighed as she began examining the backpack, unzipping each pocket carefully. "I didn't go back for the backpack," she murmured quietly, absently gnawing on her bottom lip. "I went back for these," she finally confessed, pulling out two objects from the side pocket of her pack.

Daryl immediately knew what it was she was holding — the letter from her brother, as well as the photograph of the two of them. He felt some of the anger trapped in his chest dissipate.

"I know it was stupid," Anna continued, smoothing out the wrinkled edges of the papers. "But it's all I have left of him," she mumbled, tucking a stray strand of hair blown out of place by the wind behind her ear.

Daryl detected the slight tremble in her voice but didn't mention it. He simply nodded. "I get it," he rumbled, training his eyes ahead.

And he _did_.

Once again, the archer sensed Anna's gaze on him, boring into the side of his face — but he merely clenched his jaw, feeling the tips of his ears flush as he nestled the side of his thumb between his teeth.

Another long silence stretched between Daryl and Anna as miles of pavement passed beneath them, the caravan of vehicles steadfast in their journey ahead. The archer snuck a glance at the girl beside him when he knew she wasn't looking — she had her face turned towards the open window, eyes closed, a rare, fleeting moment of peace settling over her expression as the sun soaked through her skin.

But then Daryl felt the energy around him shift as Anna opened her eyes and lowered her head, her fingers twisting around each other in her lap. She sighed softly as if attempting to steel herself for what was to come — although Daryl was fairly certain he already knew what she was about to say before her lips parted.

"So, about last night," she exhaled quietly before clearing her throat and straightening in her seat. "Look, I — I _completely_ overstepped my boundaries," she continued, gaining a little courage as she turned to face him. "I was just — shit, I don't know. I was just upset and I took it out on you because — because _shit_ , I don't even know why," she huffed, frustration marring her features as she ran a hand through her hair. "And even after everything you did for me — after everything with _Shane_ — and I just — I just," Anna groaned softly, covering part of her face with one of her hands. "God, I'm just such an _asshole_."

Daryl stilled — unsure what to say, unsure how to feel, unsure what to do to calm Anna's crumpling features.

He quickly cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his seat as he shot the girl beside him a quick glance. "Hey," he rumbled, Anna's eyes locking with his, her expression troubled. Daryl cleared his throat once more. "We're good."

Anna's brow furrowed, her mouth turning down into a slight frown. "But —" she paused, the rest of her sentence rushing past her lips as one big breath instead. She took another breath, shooting Daryl a helpless look. "But —"

" _Hey_ ," Daryl cut her off, giving her a short nod. "We're good, alright? Got other shit ta' be worryin' about, ya know?" he murmured, turning to stare ahead once more. "So, we're good."

Daryl felt Anna deflate beside him as she leaned back against the passenger seat, her gaze swiveling to observe the passing scenery instead. He peeked over at her, his hand tightening around the steering wheel as his words hung in the air.

He'd meant to comfort her — to assure her that the two of them were, in fact, _okay_. But somehow, even when he was trying to help, to bring her some _peace_ , he merely came across as _brash_. As _angry_. As _cold_.

"Do you miss him?"

Daryl stilled. The words that came from Anna's lips were quiet, barely above a whisper, hard to hear over the wind spilling through the truck's open windows. But he'd heard them. He'd heard them just as deafening as if she'd screamed them at him.

She wasn't looking at him. She still had her eyes trained towards the outdoors, towards the masses of trees flying by — but he knew by the way she held her breath that she was waiting for a response.

Daryl ground his teeth together, his body suddenly going rigid with tension at the thought of Merle. He knew that's what Anna was talking about — she didn't even have to say his name, he knew just by the way she'd said ' _him_ '.

And Daryl _really_ didn't want to talk about his brother — especially with _her_.

So instead, he shrugged a shoulder up and grumbled something unintelligible under his breath — that was the best he could do.

Anna nodded slowly, probably having expected that sort of response and turned her eyes downward to stare at her clasped hands. "I miss Ben," she suddenly spoke, picking at her thumbnail absently. "We were all each other had growing up. And he, uh — he always knew what to do, you know?" she mused, sighing softly. "I don't know — maybe this shit wouldn't suck so much if he were still around."

Daryl listened quietly, mulling over her words before he shot her a look from the corner of his eye. "Think so?" he grunted under his breath.

Anna glanced over at him, the corner of her mouth rising into a small smirk as she shrugged, sighing softly. "No, it'd probably still suck," she resolved, absently running her fingertips over the glossy photograph still in her grasp. "But maybe just a tiny bit less."

Daryl grunted once more, resting his hand outside the open window, his fingertips drumming back and forth over the dented metal door. "Merle wasn't 'round much," he murmured. He wasn't sure where the sudden confession came from — but for the life of him, he couldn't stop himself from continuing. "He was always runnin' off or gettin' sent away — jus' causin' all kinds a' trouble, ya know?" he scoffed lightly, glancing over at Anna who was carefully watching him, her eyes alight with something he couldn't quite place. Daryl quickly cleared his throat. "Kinda hard ta' miss someone who was never really there ta' begin with," he finished gruffly, his grip tightening around the steering wheel.

Anna was silent for a long moment after that — the quiet that stretched on gnawed at Daryl's insides, sending his heart thrumming just a fraction faster. And in that moment, he regretted speaking up — he regretted sharing that incredibly personal part of himself to this complete stranger beside him.

 _Stupid prick. Ya ain't got nothin' that nobody wants ta' hear anyways. Ya ain't nothin' but —_

"I'm sorry about your brother."

Anna's words were so quiet, Daryl almost missed them.

He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat, his gaze locking with Anna's for a moment — the kindness, the _compassion_ in her eyes shooting a sudden warmth through his veins. "An' I'm sorry 'bout yours," he rumbled, his voice deep and gravely in his chest.

They held each other's gazes a moment longer before Daryl turned away, just as the blinker of the RV flipped on and the caravan began to pull off to the side of the road. The archer followed suit, easing the pickup to a slow stop before shutting off the truck.

As members of the group began to filter out of their vehicles, Daryl and Anna remained side by side in silence, each trapped in their own thoughts. It wasn't until Rick hopped out of the RV, sending the two of them a small wave to join the group, that Daryl finally broke out of his reverie.

He slid out of the truck, turning to grab his crossbow from the backseat before slamming the door shut. When he noticed Anna's stillness, not having moved from the passenger seat yet, her eyes far away as she stared at the dashboard, he paused, resting his forearms against the open window on the driver's side. "Ya alright?" he murmured, snapping Anna out of her thoughts.

She nodded slowly, slipping her backpack over her shoulders, Ben's note and photograph still clasped in her hands. "I'm here," she reassured him quietly, taking a breath before she pushed open her door and hopped out.

Daryl's brow furrowed at her response, but he pushed away the concern he felt as he made his way towards the rest of the group.

Several people approached Anna, clearly worried since they hadn't been able to check up on her since the CDC — Lori wrapped her arms around Anna's frame, giving her a quick hug as Rick squeezed her shoulder, making sure she was alright. Glenn made his way to her side, nudging her gently in the ribs, murmuring something to her — Daryl couldn't make out what he said and he wasn't sure why that bothered him.

"Alright," Rick's voice suddenly rose, snapping the archer out of his thoughts, his gaze tearing away from Anna.

The rest of the group settled, all eyes falling on the sheriff, the overall morale of the group feeling incredibly low. Rick took a moment to look at each and every member of the group before he took a breath.

"I know everyone's gotta be wonderin' where we go from here," he began, his expression torn. Most group members nodded in response, other murmured under their breaths. "We thought the CDC was it — _I_ thought it was it. I thought that's where we'd find the answer's we've been lookin' for. But we were wrong," he continued, looking as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. And then he glanced at Carl, tucked into Lori's side, and some of that weight faded into determination. "But we can't give up — not now, not _ever_ ," he persisted fiercely, giving Lori an encouraging nod.

"An' where're we supposed ta' go, huh?" Shane called out, standing a couple people over from Daryl — and the archer felt a swell of anger course through him. "If the god damn CDC didn't make it, how're we ta' know that everywhere else hasn't gone ta' shit too?"

"Shane," Lori chastised sharply, shooting him a dark look as she pulled Carl closer to her side.

"I'm sorry, but someone's gotta say it," Shane shrugged nonchalantly, roughly rubbing a hand through his hair. "Where're we supposed ta' go from here, Rick?" he directed the question solely at the sheriff, looking at him pointedly.

Rick was quiet for a moment, resting his hand on his hip, his eyes cast downward, deep in thought. But then his gaze rose and fell on Anna — they seemed to have some sort of silent conversation before Anna shrugged one shoulder up, Rick nodding soon after before he leveled Shane's stare. "Fort Benning."

Collective hushed and panicked conversation broke out amongst the group before Rick began working to reign everyone in. Daryl remained silent, leaning against the front of his pickup truck, simply observing the chaos unfolding.

"Alright, now listen, I know some of y'all are worried but —"

"Fort Benning is on the other side of Georgia, Rick! You can't expect us to —"

"— with what supplies? We lost everything —"

"— unbelievable. We should've just stayed at the quarry and —"

"Listen, jus' _listen_ for a minute —"

"M-Mom —"

"— end up just like Jacqui. Like _Amy_. We should've —"

A sharp whistle sounded, silencing the growing uproar amongst the group, their gazes swiveling in Dale's direction — he stood on the steps of the RV, rifle in hand, expression bewildered before he quickly marched to Rick's side. "I can't believe what I'm hearing right now," he scolded in disbelief, surveying the group, disappointment marring his features. "Look," he huffed, moving to stand in the center of the circle that'd been formed. "If anyone else here thinks they have what it takes to lead this group, then by all means —" he held his hands out in front of him as if _daring_ someone to step forward.

When no one moved, Dale scoffed knowingly, stepping back to stand beside Rick once more, nodding for the sheriff to continue.

Rick shot Dale a grateful look before he straightened up, taking a breath and facing the group once more. "We can't give up now. There _is_ salvation out there — I _have_ ta' believe that. Fort Benning is a risk, but it's a risk we have ta' take. We'll find somewhere ta' hole up in for tonight and then tomorrow, we'll scavenge — siphon gas, find supplies, see what we can scrounge up around here. Gather enough ta' get us ta' that army base and then —" he paused, locking eyes with Lori. "— and then we'll go from there."

The group was silent, mulling over Rick's words. Daryl crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the front bumper of his pickup, his gaze finding its way back to Anna.

She was quiet, brow pensive as if deep in thought, fingers looped around the straps of her backpack. He wondered what she was thinking about in that moment.

"Let's get a move on before dark, alright?" Shane suddenly spoke, clapping his hands together once. "We'll discuss our next move further once we find ourselves somewhere ta' spend the night," he added before turning around and making his way back to his Jeep without another word. Daryl watched the way Rick's gaze followed his old partner, his expression unreadable.

The rest of the group began to slowly filter back to their cars. Daryl pushed off his pickup, adjusting the strap of his crossbow as he rounded the front of his vehicle, heading back to the driver's side. He couldn't help but look back as he yanked open his door — and there he spotted Anna.

Lori and Carol were standing in front of her, examining a few of the minor cuts and bruises on her elbows and knees, the ones she'd acquired from her narrow escape. He couldn't hear what they were saying from where he stood, but a moment later, Carol was ushering her forward and Lori was grasping Anna's hand, gently pulling her towards the RV.

But right before Anna disappeared inside the RV, her eyes found Daryl's. And then she was gone, the door to the RV closing behind her.

The archer remained rooted where he was for a moment longer until an uproar of vehicles turning over filled the air, snapping him out of his reverie. He heaved a breath, slipping his crossbow off his shoulder as he hopped back into his truck and started it up.

But as he pulled onto the main road, falling back in line amongst the caravan of vehicles, he tried not to think about the sudden emptiness filling the space beside him.

He tried not to think about _her_.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Thoughts?_

 _ **QUESTION OF THE WEEK:** How do you think this supply run will go? I have a feeling things won't be ending well…_

 _Feedback is INCREDIBLY important. I write for my own happiness, but I also write for YOU. So don't be afraid to shoot me an ask or message or leave a comment with your thoughts! It truly motivates me and helps move along the writing process. Let's discuss and be friends!_


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